


Per Aspera

by Bearfeat



Series: Spectrum [23]
Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Mention of Physical Abuse, Other, Some Deaths, Some Fluff, mention of suicide, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:11:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 30,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9157672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearfeat/pseuds/Bearfeat
Summary: After helping a young fan in need, Papa keeps falling into several disturbing situations. It leads to The Devil assigning him with a new task during their break from touring. It is a hard task, and Papa struggles to not let it get to him.Set after Spectrum, introducing new characters.





	1. Hazel

**Author's Note:**

> This here is me trying to give you an original story, not smut-based (although I am definitely throwing some at you in here) in one piece.  
> If you haven't read Spectrum, you might want to read the first chapter of my fic Indigo, because some things will make a bit more sense then.  
> *Edit* Yeah you also might want to read Foliage and Teal for more background on Papa III and the man underneath the mask as well as their relationship with Omega, and Bronze and Silver for more background on their experiences with The Devil.  
> (You know what, just read Spectrum. Read it all.)  
> *FINAL EDIT* This story is now officially a part of the Spectrum series. This, because very soon I'll post the very final installment, and it might throw back to events happening in Per Aspera.

Papa Emeritus caught a whiff of something familiar. It stopped him dead in his tracks. When he turned around, trying to find where the scent was coming from, he lost it for a short while. But just before the excitement slipped away from him, he caught it again, and he started to move. He followed it.

The scent came from far away, but space wasn’t really an obstacle for him. He didn’t know where he was going, but he was in pursuit, and as his heart beat away just a small moment in time, he found himself in a new room.

 

He sighed in content and smiled. He didn’t know the room. He had certainly never been here before. But the scent he remembered clear as day. This was the scent of a young man, who once stood trembling before him. A young man with sad eyes and plump lips, and hips excellent for dancing. Papa looked around the room. It was small, and only a scarce light came from the streetlight outside the window. Against the wall he saw a mattress. Just a mattress, no bed. Clothes lay in piles on the floor, but not in a messy way. He recognized a pile of pants, a pile of sweaters, and what seemed to be a pile of band shirts. Papa remembered the name of his band spread over the boys chest when he saw him last. It must have been a year ago. Which meant the boy was now of age.

 

‘Indigo…’ Papa mumbled, remembering his name. In his memory, the sadness in the young men’s eyes now were filled with the color blue that was so similar to his name. Indigo. An innocent, beautiful, corruptible boy. Where might he be? He scanned around the room again, slowly realizing this was no apartment bedroom or student dorm. His eye fell to the stuffed animals at the foot end of the mattress. Only then he noticed how neatly the bed was made, despite it being just the mattress, and how, in the middle of the night, no beautiful young man with plump lips and dancer’s hips was snoozing under the sheets.

 

‘Papa?’ a small voice sounded behind him. Emeritus softly cringed, as he didn’t like to be discovered lurking about. He liked to watch his lovers for a while, studying them, calculating the perfect time to strike… with charm. He turned on his heel, smolder already playing over his mask, when he understood that, even before he saw the source of the voice, that couldn’t possibly be the voice of an eighteen-year old man. He was startled when he saw her, but he made sure she didn’t see. He figured the man with the priest robes and the skull-paint would scare her enough as it was.

 

She was a little girl. She stood in the door opening, the light behind her like a halo in her ginger hair. Emeritus stepped back, enfolding himself in shadows that weren’t there a second ago. He was in luck she was a child, it was the middle of the night, and he was a demon capable at traveling at the speed of thought. He felt relief. The girl must have thought she had seen her father, and when she’d wake up in the morning she would have probably forgotten all of this. From his safe place in the shadows he watched how the child rubbed her eyes, and looked around, confused.

Go on then, he thought. Go to bed, little one. But then she called out again for the mysterious man in her house.

‘Papa Emeritus?’ she said. Papa’s smile dropped.

 

The young girl rubbed her eyes again, and now set foot in the room. ‘Papa Emeritus?’ she said again. Papa remained in the shadows, feeling his heartbeat in his throat. How could this small child possibly know who he was, and more: how could she tell he was there? He held his breath, ready to depart, but then a thought struck him. Children never feared him. Children were never afraid of their masks, of their music, or even the idea of Satan. Those were fears for grown-ups. Could it really hurt to talk to a child?

 

The girl now stood right in front of him, eyes blindly peering into the darkness. Then she sighed. It sounded like a sigh indicating an exhaustion that surpassed her age by far. She hung her head and walked over to the window. Papa saw her eyes dart to the streetlight and the cloudy sky. The moon was no more than a very thin crescent tonight.

‘I really thought it was you.’ she sighed to the starless night. Watching the expression on her little, pale face made Papa’s heart break into a million pieces.

 

‘My child.’ He said softly. The girl snapped her eyes back to the shadows inside the room, eyes darting to the spot his voice came from. ‘Do you need me?’

‘Papa?’ she squeaked again. Her eyes grew big as he let the shadows draw back from his presence. He was right. The child was not scared. Somewhat overwhelmed, maybe, but not scared.

‘How do you know me?’ Papa said. The girl didn’t answer. She stared at him with big eyes and pointed at something over his right shoulder. Papa looked behind him. On the wall hang a large poster of his band, the one from the Black to the Future tour. Around it, several printed pictures of his face. There were some ghouls too, and some shots of him from afar, but the pictures mainly showed just his face. Emeritus looked back at the girl.

‘I see.’ He said. ‘Are you a fan, little one?’ he gave the girl a kind smile.

‘My brother.’ She whispered.

 

Papa sank to his knees to get on eye level with her. Indigo’s little sister. She had the same earnest look in her eyes, but hers were a pale shade of grey. He wondered if her parents gave her some silly eye color-based name too.

‘What do I call you, my dear?’ he said.

‘My name is Hazel.’ She replied. She spoke low and secretive with him now he was on her level. Hazel. He looked into her eyes again. A hit and miss, but a pretty name, still. The girl stirred. ‘I knew you would come.’ She said. Then she let herself fall against him, her small arms reaching around his neck. He caught her, and impulsively embraced her tightly.

 

‘How old are you, Hazel?’ Papa whispered.

‘Eight.’ She said.

‘And how did you know I would come?’

Hazel squeezed her tiny body against him, and then let go. Emeritus placed his hands on her shoulders.

‘Because…’ she said. She looked at her night slippers. ‘Because I’ve been praying for you to come, ever since he died.’

 

Papa’s heart sank.

‘I-indigo?’ he stammered. Hazel nodded her head.

‘ _Ragazza, dolore_ , no…’ he whispered. ‘What happened, _tesoro_?’ Before she spoke, he could see the answer in her eyes. He could see it now, and he knew deep inside, he saw it in her brother’s eyes then, too.

Indigo had taken his own life.


	2. Lucifer's Wing

Still holding the girl, Papa looked around the room again. The piles of clothing. The neatly made bed. Indigo’s parents must have started sorting out their son’s things. It made more sense now.

‘When?’ Papa said.

‘The first week of December.’ Hazel whispered. Tears shone in her eyes, but she did not cry.

‘ _Tesoro_.’ He said again. Speaking Italian was something he just happened to do when he was upset. The earnest grey eyes in front of him seemed to understand his words just fine.

‘Indigo was very sad. Always has been.’ She said, voice meek. ‘He told me it was the only way. He told me he wouldn’t be sad under Lucifer’s wing, but I didn’t know what he meant by that exactly.’ She looked at her feet again. ‘I didn’t know that he meant this.’

 

Papa’s throat started hurting as he saw the heartbroken little girl fight her tears. Her ginger hair was short and curled around her small face. A trail of freckles ran over her nose. He softly stroked her cheek with the back of his gloved hand. She looked at him. Her eyes were slowly turning red now, but still not a tear.

‘Do you want to tell me what happened?’ he said. ‘It’s okay if you don’t.’

The child took a shuddering breath and leaned her head against his hand. He opened it to cup her face, and softly caressed her soft cheek with his thumb.

 

‘Indigo was always more sad in winter. I don’t really know why. I like winter more than summer.’ She slowly blinked, holding steady eye contact. ‘He told me daddy was always angry with him. And daddy would always be angry, it didn’t matter how hard he tried to not make him angry.’

‘Why was your dad angry?’

Hazel looked around, silently listing things in her head. ‘My daddy was angry that Indigo dyed his hair. And then he didn’t like any of the clothes he wore.’

Papa looked at the pile of band shirts. ‘Your daddy didn’t like those?’ he said. Hazel shook her head.

‘No, he told my brother he couldn’t wear those pants.’ Papa looked at the pile next to the shirts. Almost all of them were skinny jeans.

‘He said they are for girls.’ Hazel whispered, anger in her voice.

‘Hazel.’ Papa said. ‘Was your dad angry your brother was gay?’

The eyes of the girl grew wide again.

‘You...you can’t say that!’ she said.

‘Do you think it is wrong for two men to be in love with each other? Or two women?’

She thought for a moment and shook her head.

‘No, it’s not wrong. My brother told me that you can’t choose who you fall in love with. He said that love is always better than hate.’

‘Your brother was very smart.’

Hazel gave him a sad smile.

 

‘Papa?’ the girl was silent for a while and the pope waited patiently. He had stopped petting her, and decided sitting on the floor would be better for his knees. He moved his back against the radiator, and looked up at her.

‘Is my brother happy now? Has he stopped being sad?’ a small tear finally ran down her cheek. Papa swallowed hard and held out his hands to her. When she took them, he pulled her to sit in his lap.

‘Yes, _gattina_.’ He kissed her brow. Then he placed a kiss on top of her head. He wished he could kiss it better. Moms and dads can kiss away the pain of a little child. Even Papas can. But as he felt Hazels heartbeat, placing a hand on her back, he knew she was robbed of her childhood. ‘Indigo is not sad anymore.’

 

He thought about how he got here, slowly rocking her from side to side. She was breathing so calmly he thought she had fallen asleep. He had been disappointed to not find Indigo, then horrified by the news he had taken his own life. If he had looked for him earlier, could he have done something? Hazel coughed. He hoped that same thought wasn’t tormenting the child. Her soft voice sounded through the night again.

‘Can I come with you?’ she said. Papa held her tight and sighed. Her ginger curls moved as his breath touched them.

‘I’m afraid not, my dear.’

‘Please take me with you.’ it sounded more like an order than a question. ‘My mommy cries all the time and my daddy is still angry.’

‘ _Gattina_ , I am truly sorry, but I cannot do that. I cannot take you away.’

‘Please, Papa. Indigo told me you were the greatest man he ever met.’

That shut him up. He looked at the wall of the boy’s bedroom again, and his own face looked back dozens of times. ‘I will visit you, I promise.’

She lifted her face, her big, accusing eyes burning him. ‘What does _‘gattina’_ mean?’

‘Oh… it means ‘little cat.’’ He said, waiting for her smart reply. She just looked at him, nodded, and rested her head back against his chest.

‘Where are your parents?’ he said after a while. He just noticed how quiet the house was. No snoring dads, no moms with that special mom-power of immediately knowing when a child is out of bed.

 

‘My mommy is with her girlfriends tonight and my daddy is taking a long drive. He drives around when he gets too angry.’

‘He got angry tonight?’ Papa said with worry, after overcoming his astonishment over people leaving alone a child in the middle of the night.

‘Did he get angry at you?’

Hazel looked at him again, and to his surprise the sadness now made way for shining pride.

‘I sang The Thunder.’ She said. ‘Indigo really liked that song. He would play it whenever they got in a fight. Daddy did not like that I sang it today.’ She grinned.

‘I don’t think I know that song.’ Papa said. Looking at her proud face gave him an idea. ‘Do you want to sing it for me?’

She sat up and looked at him as if he was dumb.

‘The Thunder!’ she said loudly, and she grabbed his face with both hands. She sang:

_“I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart! I can see through the scars inside you!”_

 

His breath caught in his chest and he let out a laugh.

‘Oooh THAT song!’ he said. ‘It’s actually called… never mind.’ Hazel cackled too, because she still thought he was being silly. Then, something startled her. A noise from outside, that he hadn’t even registered. A second later he heard it too: it was a car turning up the driveway. Her hands trembled against his face.

 

She was afraid. For the first time tonight, Papa saw fear in her eyes. The girl jumped up and looked around, panicked. She needed to get to bed pronto, but couldn’t leave Emeritus here.

‘Crawl under my bed!’ she said. The childish, but inventive remark made him light up in juvenile excitement.

‘Okay!’ he exclaimed. There was no need to contradict her plan. Also, there wasn’t really time. They heard the front door being unlocked. The child tugged him along by the sleeve, and the moment they passed the threshold of her bedroom, they heard the man kick off his shoes in the hallway. He cursed under his breath and Papa felt his dark presence. He felt the anger of the man, but also his shame and his grief.

 

Watching Hazel step onto her bed, pulling the sheets over her, he realized how late it must be.

‘I’ll visit. I promise.’ He whispered. Then, as they both heard footsteps coming up the stairs, he looked behind him. Nothing yet. Hazel was too afraid to reply, so Papa moved his hands together and placed them against his cheek, gesturing she should lay down, and sleep. Then he kissed his palm and waved the kiss towards her.

‘I’ll come back for you, _gattina_.’ He whispered softly. ‘Stay strong.’

Right before the room dissolved before his eyes, he saw her small hand reach up, and grab the kiss he blew her.

 

-

 

He stood on the pavement, watching the light in Hazel’s bedroom switch on through her curtains. A second later, the light was gone, and her bedroom window was dark again. She must have pretended to be asleep. He grinned. Clever girl.

Papa turned away and started walking. He needed something. He needed to grieve. He needed comfort.

He needed a woman.

 

Before a name came to mind, a scent filled his nose. Then the image of a slender, lean beauty…

Papa held his breath and thought of the woman. He imagined laying her down, and remembered her willingness and her need to give herself to him. He imagined slowly discarding her clothes and he remembered taking her, marking her. He remembered how his teeth left red traces on her pale skin. He imagined how she would hold him, after.

 

A candle burned in her bedroom, and for a moment he contemplated undressing and laying down on her bed. He decided against it when he remembered how long ago it was he visited her. He didn’t want to give her a fright.

He followed her scent, growing stronger now, with each step he took from her bed. The cellar? He thought. But then he remembered. He recognized the smell of lavender and remembered the long baths she liked to take. Smiling, he took of his miter and held it under his arm, slowly opening the bathroom door. There she was. Candles burned in the bathroom, lighting up the fair skin of her face and her raven black hair. The long eyelashes casted spooky shadows on her cheeks, as her eyes were closed peacefully.

 

‘ _Bella…_ ’ he whispered. The flames danced over the dark surface of the water. The woman did not respond.

‘I didn’t think to find you this wet.’ He tried again, but that granted him no response either. He stepped closer. The flames danced wilder, and the shadows moved faster. Only then he noticed just how dark the still water looked and how peaceful the lady.

 


	3. Rose Water

Before the sharp smell of copper weaved through the lavender to reach his nose, Papa knew the silent scene before him wasn’t right. He swallowed hard, trying even more desperately to remember her name, and he took a step closer to the bath. His footstep echoed against the cold tiles. The fair beauty had never looked as pale as she did now, and he saw why, as his eyes traced the deep cut in the skin of her collarbone, stretching out over her neck. Blood as thin as a drop of wine in a glass of water spread over the skin of her neck and chest not obscured by the dark water. When Papa took a step closer, he noticed more wounds.

 

Through the vague shadows the candles casted over the water, he caught glimpses of the parts of her body closer to the surface. Her pointy shoulders peeked out above the water, and as he traced them down he noticed more deep cuts. Clean ones, but also angry slashes, as if nothing was more important than for this skin to break.

Papa tried not to breathe through his nose, because the smell of her blood registered so clear in his mind, but when he opened his mouth, he could taste her on his tongue. He quickly pressed his sleeve against his face, eyes watering at the perverted thought. Cuts on her breast and upper legs. He gagged. Some parts of her upper legs looked so damaged he noticed pieces of skin were taken out.

 

He took another step and fell to his knees at the side of the bath. In a glance, a shimmer of a candle lit the water in such a way he caught a glimpse of her left hand, holding a razor.

‘ _Bella_ …’ he stuttered again, feeling a tear leave his eye. He took off a glove and placed a hand on her forehead, immediately pulling back as he felt how cold she was. How could she be laying here so peaceful? He imagined her slashing her own skin apart, and then laying back and closing her eyes as if she was asleep, slowly bleeding out into the bathwater.

 

He pressed his warm hand against her forehead once more. She was gone.

Papa sat there for a while, contemplating what to do. The house was empty, he didn’t hear any neighbors. He didn’t know if she was in a relationship, whether she had close friends, if her parents lived nearby. He slowly rubbed his thumb over her brow. It could be days before someone found her.

 

Papa stood up and looked around the bathroom, then paced into the hall, heading for her bed. He slipped the glove back over his hand. Everything looked so normal. Her bedroom was cleaned, everything was very neat. He saw no clothes scattered on the floor, and he realized her last act was no rash decision. He found no note. No letter explaining why she did what she did. When he opened a desk drawer he found only drawings of monsters and winged creatures. A faint light suddenly appeared in the room. Papa at first couldn’t place it, but when he looked over his shoulder he found the source of the light. The screen of her phone, placed on top of her nightstand, had lit up. Closing the drawer, he walked over to it. It was a text message, but he couldn’t see it, because the phone was locked. Papa swallowed hard. Next to the little symbol of an envelope, he read the word ‘Mom’.

 

Shoulders heavy, he walked back to the bathroom, phone in hand. As if he had expected her to have miraculously come to life, his heart broke again when he saw her wounded and lifeless and bathing in her own blood.

‘I’m so sorry, my love.’ He whispered, towering above her. ‘I wish there was something that could be done.’ Then, without warning, the vision of Indigo appeared in his mind very clearly. Another tear rolled down his painted cheek. ‘I wish there was something I could have done.’ He said softly.

 

Papa then placed the phone on the wide edge of the bathtub. Every phone had a safety mode. He dialed the alarm number.

‘I hope you have found your peace.’ He said, as he heard the phone ring once. Then a women’s voice answered, and he held his breath and slowly saw the room around him fade. With a beat of his heart he was home again.

 

 

Papa arrived in his own chambers of their castle in Lincopia, and took of is miter. He felt a headache coming up. He took off his gloves and was about to start discarding his robes, when he heard a sweet and familiar sound. He froze. He knew some of his ghouls would be coming here over their winter break, but he wasn’t aware of a presence in the castle tonight.

He opened his door and followed the sound through the halls, until he stood before a door leading to the chambers of his most beloved ghoul. Papa entered without knocking.

 

Omega only looked up at him for a second and smiled, before he turned his attention back to his guitar. The music he played was new. Every now and then he wrote something down on a piece of paper, securely placed on the armrest of his chair.

Papa felt like a ton of weight was lifted off his shoulders when he walked over to his ghoul and sat down at his feet. Head heavy and aching, he leaned his cheek against Omega’s thigh. The ghoul stopped playing.

‘Hey.’ He said, touching Papa's face with the back of his hand. ‘What is wrong? Where have you been?’

The dark pope closed his eyes. ‘Hell.’ He sighed.


	4. Name Your Poison

‘Papa?’

Papa Emeritus opened his eyes. ‘Lucifer!’ It was like a cough, something he couldn’t suppress. A gasp for air. He stretched his fingers and then cracked his knuckles. The last part of the masking ritual always felt like being yanked away from a nice dream. Papa blinked his eyes.

‘Yes, dear?’ he said to Alma in front of him. The woman slowly pulled her hands away from his shoulders.

‘What?’ she said. The candles flickered on the altar of the dim room and the smell of incense filled the air. The informality in his voice surprised her. Usually, after carefully placing the mask over the singer’s face and performing the ceremony, Papa would open his clever and mismatched eyes and respectfully greet her and anyone in the room. _Yes dear?_ Sounded like a reply. But he couldn’t be replying to someone, because the demon had been awoken from a pleasant slumber mere seconds ago.

 

‘I didn’t say anything.’ She said, holding her hands close to Papa’s face. He furrowed his brow.

‘How then….’ He said. Then he shrugged. ‘I must have been imagining it.’ A slight grin appeared on his face as he took her hand.

‘Alma!’ He bowed for her and grazed her knuckles with his lips. ‘Always a pleasure!’

 

‘Papa!’

 

Quickly, he looked up. Alma looked back to him. The voice calling him wasn’t hers he now realized. He turned his head, trying to remember where it came from.

‘Son?’ the woman whispered. He looked halfway back to her, before storming out of the room, leaving her without giving her a chance to say another word.

 

Papa stormed into his chambers and grabbed his informal black and white costume. The Guy usually wore nothing more than a pair of pants, so he had to dress himself every time. Not that he minded being half-naked in front of Alma or some sisters, but it felt inconvenient when an unknown voice called his name through the night.

 

‘Papa?’ it was a sob this time, broken. He fiercely pulled his white gloves over his hands and then it hit him. The scent. The name. He held his breath and arrived in Diane’s small cottage just in time to see the woman slide off the couch in her living room.

Again.

It was happening again.

 

Her body looked limp, but her fingers twitched. Papa ran to her, crashing to his knees. When he took her round face in his hands, he saw her eyes roll into the back of her skull.

‘No!’ he cursed aloud, adrenaline shooting through his body.

Then, her body started shaking uncontrollably. Before he saw the empty packages of painkillers and the bottle of vodka on the table, he knew what was wrong. _How?_ , he thought. _How is this happening again?_

 

‘I heard you, Diane!’ He yelled, shoving his hands under her upper arms and attempting to pull her up in a sitting position. ‘I am here for you! I heard you call me! I am here!’

It didn’t help that her entire body had gone limp again. She wasn’t at tall woman, but voluptuous and heavy around the waist. Papa pulled her short, blonde hair, to see if there was any sign of life in her eyes. Her hair was wet and hung like strings over her sweaty forehead.

 

‘Come on, baby girl!’ He grunted, finally having her upright and leaning against the couch. Not knowing what else to do, he gave her a timid slap in the face.

‘Stupid!’ he cursed himself. Holding her face up by the jaw with one hand, he hooked his teeth in the glove of the other, and pulled the hand free.

‘Okay.’ He murmured. ‘Okay.’

 

He stuck out his index and middle finger, making a familiar symbol. Then he placed the fingertips on the lips of the woman.

‘Open up.’ he groaned. ‘Diane, baby, open!’ her jaw easily gave when he worked his fingers between her teeth and then pushed further. He pushed as far back into her throat as her mouth and his hand allowed him.

 

‘Spit it out, girl!’ he said. His heart raced in his chest, and as Diane slowly fell to the side, he grabbed her shoulder and pushed her back up. He moved his fingers, but her throat didn’t give him the gag reflex he was hoping for.

‘Diane!’ he screamed, panic rising now, ‘I am here! I heard you! I am here for you!’ he took a deep breath. He needed to stay calm. He still felt a heartbeat, though a faint one.

‘I am here for you, baby! Your Papa is here for you!’

 

Suddenly, her throat contracted sharply around him, and she made the most awful gagging noise.

‘Come on!’ Papa grunted through his teeth. Eyes closed, Dianne gagged again.

‘Baby…’ he said again but he gasped for air when finally she bellowed and a stream of vomit came spurting from her mouth. Papa pulled his hand back in disgust, grabbing her shoulders to keep her up. The amount of pills in it hurt his heart. She moved her hands now, and he saw she tried to cling on to something for support. A sour and penetrative smell filled the air.

The vomiting stopped, but her body shook and she gagged again. Papa placed his hand back under her chin.

 

‘More, baby.’ He whispered, working his fingers into her throat again. He didn’t exactly know why Diane was his ‘baby’, but the woman always seemed to enjoy it most when he called her that. There didn’t have to be a reason. The important thing was that she was responsive to the word. ‘Give your Papa everything.’ He said. Another stream of vomit spilled over his hand and more pills spread out on the wooden floor of her cottage. Diane vomited until nothing more came out and she gagged to no avail, a pained expression carved on her face. Exhausted, Papa let go of her, watching her sag to the side. Her body wasn’t completely limp anymore as she now moved and coughed, but her arm wasn’t strong enough to hold her up as she fell to the floor.

 

Papa stood up. Defeated, he moved to the kitchen to wash his hands and rinse the vomit from his sleeve. He would have to take her to hospital, but there was time. He had time. He wasn’t too late this time.

As he watched the cold stream wash over his hands, not minding it froze his finger up to a point it hurt, he felt hot anger shoot up through his throat. He slammed the tap shut and ran back to the living room, kicking the coffee table so hard it flew across the room, missing the woman by a few inches.

 

Guilt filled his heart. ‘Baby…’ he whispered again. He sunk to his knees beside her, stroking her hair away from her face. She blinked, and finally opened her gold brown eyes. He saw how she recognized him.

‘Papa…’ she said. ‘You should have let me go.’

 

A minute went by before Papa knew what to say.

‘Diane… can it really be this bad?’ He swallowed hard, because if this week had taught him anything, it was that things most certainly could turn this bad.

 

He waited with her until the ambulance came, ignored the weird looks the medics threw him and his painted mask, and let himself fall on a chair in the corner. Head in his hands, he realized how strange it was that he was here. He had never heard anyone actually call out for him before. Somehow he knew people had tried to call for him before, but he had never _heard_ them.

 

‘Papa?’

 

Papa felt how all the blood pulled away from his face. The voice came from very far away, but he heard it so clearly. Tired as a dog, he shoved his hands back over his eyes. He took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, a small sob left his throat.

 

‘Papa?’

 

‘Yes.’ He said. He stood up. His throat was burning hot and he swallowed painfully. As he moved through space, letting the voice guide him, another voice mingled with the first one. When he opened his eyes, seeing the room materialize around him, he didn’t expect to see the small girl he had met a week prior.

 

Hazel looked up at him with those earnest grey eyes, and immediately took his hand.

‘Take me away!’ she hissed. Papa blinked his eyes, out of his depth and unsure what to do. Then, an angry voice called from downstairs. He recognized it from when he last saw her. Papa recoiled, letting go of the little girl, and pressed himself into a corner. He could not be found by a man in his daughter’s bedroom. It suddenly felt very wrong for him to have promised a child to visit. Papa pulled up shadows, and let them obscure any sight of him.

 

‘Hazel!’ her dad called. ‘Hazel, get your fucking ass down here!’

Papa turned on his heel. Suddenly he was very willing to be found by the man who would speak to his eight year-old daughter like that. Angry footsteps were heard coming up the stairs. Hazel tugged his sleeve hard, and squealed when her dad called her name again.

‘HAZEL!’ her dad yelled.

Papa looked at the girl, who was shivering in fear, and suddenly realized something.

 

‘Hazel…’ he whispered. ‘Does your dad ever hit you?’

The way she wouldn’t look at him and the way she desperately pulled his arm told him enough.

‘Shhh.’ Papa said. Then he wrapped his arms around the girl, pressed her head against his stomach and thought of home. It took two beats of his heart for them to get there.


	5. Lost a Brother, Gained a Brother

‘Where have you been?’ Omega sleepily blinked as the unmasked singer slipped into his chambers.

‘Shenanigans.’ The other sighed, unfastening his black trousers, the only thing he was wearing. ‘I’ll tell you in the morning.’

‘Did Papa wake Alma to unmask you?’

‘Yes.’ He crawled under the sheets, making the ghouls shiver as the cold air touched his skin.

‘It’s late.’

‘I’m sorry, my love.’ He pressed his naked chest against Omega’s back and wrapped an arm around him. When Omega huffed contently, he also placed his leg over the ghoul’s hip. ‘I would’ve slept in my bed tonight, but it’s just there’s someone in there.’

 

Omega, who had slowly started pressing back against his lover’s erection, turned around.

‘What?’

The other yawned. ‘I’ll tell you in the morning.’ He said.

‘Did Papa bring someone home? For fucks sakes, did _you_?’ Again, is what he wanted to say. Did you bring someone again. Did you get overwhelmed with pity again for a wide-eyed, nostalgic- he cut off his train of thought. Guilt-tripping his love, and also very much himself, wouldn’t help the situation

‘It’s not like that.’ The other said. ‘In the morning. Now, do I get a kiss goodnight or not?’

The ghoul gave in. He didn’t really see the need to fight right now, certainly not with his lover’s hand trailing down over his stomach like that.

 

The singer drifted off into a dream soon after he had made Omega come and received his warm and sleepy kisses. He had kindly rejected Omega’s offer to please him as well, because he could feel the sleep overtake him. He was so tired, in his mind and his body. He let his restless cock for what it was and gave in to the void.

 

Immediately, he knew the dream was not a normal one. He had never had these before, but Papa had. He recognized it was a message from The Devil.

 _Lucifer_ , he thought. _Why me_?

He was still in his bed, his cock still hardening. Omega had gone, and next to him was a gorgeous being with smoldering dark eyes. When he reached out to them, he was wearing Papa’s gloves. When he moved his face, he felt the constraint of the silicone mask.

‘Papa.’ Said the person, who was a woman now with ruddy hair and strong eyebrows. ‘I missed you so.’

‘Yes.’ He could hear his own voice, but Papa’s thick accent shone through. ‘Yes, my dear.’ When he leaned over to kiss her lips, the face around the dark eyes had changed and it was now a man, his scruff scratching against the fabric of his glove as he tried to feel something of the kiss through the silicone. The man moaned and grabbed Papa’s cock, stroking it firmly as he guided it towards his lubed up hole. Papa grunted and rolled on top of him, pressing firmly inside. When he did however, he felt it wasn’t the same man anymore, and around the eyes the face of a new man shaped before him. Older now, hairless. The man couldn’t hide the pleasure through the shame on his face.

‘Papa.’ He moaned. ‘Papa, please.’

His cock twitching, he thrusted inside him, letting the man dive his fingernails into his back. His thighs vibrated around his hips. Papa thrusted again and gasped at the feeling of suddenly being inside a vagina, and he looked up into the face of a new woman.

‘Please, Papa.’ She heaved.

‘Yes.’ Papa responded. ‘Yes my dear, of course, my dear.’

He sat up and fucked her hard, watching her arch her back and open her mouth wide. Her tits bounced, melted into her ribcage and covered with hair. His screams of pleasure changed and got higher, becoming female again. Papa fucked them, he fucked them all. They all felt amazing, squirming around his cock and the pit of fire in his stomach grew with every thrust. He made them scream and heave in delight. He made them lose their mind and then their breath. He made them gasp and squeal and finally gurgle when he found his gloved hand closing tightly over their throat.

 

He stopped to think when he found out this was not his choice. His mind stopped to ponder this, but his hips were still thrusting, and his hand still clawing at the throat. The squeals of the being under him formed rugged words and he had to listen hard to hear them.

‘Harder, Papa.’ The woman breathed.

‘Harder, please.’ Heaved the man. Papa felt his finger clench tighter. The heartbeat of the person under him pulsed heavily against his cramped up finger tips.

‘Harder.’ He saw the person mouth, but this time, he remembered her. It was the face of Diane, the short and full woman with the blond hair. She still had the dark eyes of the creatures before her. ‘Harder.’ Is what her lips told him. When his hand closed impossibly tight around her throat, now leaving the skin alarmingly red, the woman changed. It was Rosemary. Rosemary! He finally remembered the name of the slender beauty that had found her tragic death bleeding out in the bathtub. Rosemary looked up at him, eyes big and adoring, skin hot and glowing when she too begged him to take her breath away. The throat he was clenching now gave a little and Papa feared for the larynx, and how it bended inwards. Then, in a flash, he saw them all. He saw everyone he’d ever felt and intimately tasted. Rosemary changed into the Australian girl, then the barista from Berlin, then the first man he’d ever slept with, then Indigo, Brush, Chicago and finally Omega.

 ‘Harder!’ they all screamed, and Papa cried out when he balled his hand into a fist. He broke Omega’s throat. He felt the glove soak in blood as he broke the skin under his fingers, tearing into it deeply. Finally, as his he shifted all his weight down and his hand clawed again through the rattling sounds now coming from the ghoul, he could feel how slowly but surely he snapped Omega’s neck. The bone pulverized under his fingers. Blood gushed over the sheets as Omega’s body convulsed under him and his gloved hand turned red, his hand completely separating Omega’s head from his body. The dark eyes turned into the ghoul’s familiar deep blue, and then pale. Excruciating pain filled Papa's heart, and he threw his head back, roaring a harrowing apology.

 

The singer awoke with tears streaming down his face and quickly felt beside him, relieved to find Omega’s warm and snoring body. He had known it was The Devil, he had known it was a dream the entire time, but the fear never really left him, even when he threw his arms around his love and buried his face into his shoulder, feeling the ghoul’s breath caress his face. Sobbing silently, he tried to make out details of the dream. He tried to think of reasons The Devil had gave it to him, and what he was supposed to do with it. _In the morning_ , he thought, as the even zoom of the man in his arms finally calmed him. He’d know the reason in the morning.

 

He just got comfortable when a cold realization came over him. Papa had taken a child. He had taken her away from her parents. There was no way he could even be sure whether Hazel’s parents were truly hitting her, but Papa had seen something. Papa had been alarmed enough to take her. Papa had been protective last night, and determined to keep the ones that called for him away from harm.

 

Blinking from the disturbing sleep, he hoisted himself out of bed, and into his trousers. Right before he opened the door, he also decided to put on a sweater. He could only find one of Omega’s, so he felt a little silly in the oversized thing when he silently stepped into his own bedroom.

Hazel wasn’t asleep. She was in bed, but her eyes were open and her fingers were drawing figures in the dark.

‘Hazel?’ he whispered. The girl looked up, and then her eyes grew big in shock. Too late the singer realized she of course had no idea who he was. He crouched, quickly, as if to show her he was harmless.

‘Did you have a bad dream?’ he asked her, worried. He was reminded of how The Devil once showed three people the same dream in one night. Slowly, Hazel shook her head. The singer sighed with relief.

‘Who are you?’ she said, voice sharp. ‘Where is Papa?’

‘Papa is asleep. He asked me to check on you…’ he spoke very carefully, ‘because he wants to be sure you’re okay. We’re good friends.’ He added. The girl squinted her eyes.

‘What is your name?’ she said. The singer bit his lip. He thought real hard. Could he tell her? Could he give his name to a kidnapped child?

‘Are you a Nameless Ghoul?’ she said. ‘Papa said there are ghouls, people from The Clergy, Sisters…’ she counted on her fingers.

‘I’m like a Brother.’ The singer quickly said. ‘I’m like a Special Brother.’ He watched her smile fade, and cringed deeply. He closed his eyes. He had just told a little girl who had lost her brother to call him Brother.

‘Brother.’ Hazel whispered. The singer opened his eyes. As Hazel looked in his right and his left green eye, shifting her gaze over and over, he saw how he was gaining her trust.

‘Can I have a glass of water?’ she said suddenly. He sat back.

‘Yes!’ he said quickly and stood up. ‘Yes, my dear.’ He turned away from her, freezing as he realized those were the exact same words he had uttered in his dream.

‘What’s wrong?’ he heard Hazel’s voice behind him. He forced a smile and turned back to her.

‘Silly me.’ He said. ‘For a moment I forgot were the glasses were. I will be right back!’

 

When he returned, glass in hand, Hazel was sound asleep. Her childish ginger curls fell over her eyes and he could hear her grind her teeth softly.

 _What am I doing?_ He thought, as he carefully placed the glass on the nightstand. He should warn somebody. He should tell Sister Imperator, so that she could make Papa take her back. The child murmured something in her sleep. It wasn’t his place to keep her. He should call child services. Hazel turned and he could she her small back expand as she breathed rhythmically. Her parents were panicking, probably. The girl zoomed peacefully in the dark, free of worry.

The singer silently closed the door and went back to bed. This time, his dream was empty, and he had forgotten about it the moment he woke up.


	6. The Stray Cat

‘YOU STOLE A CHILD?’

The unmasked singer rubbed his eyes and looked up at the roaring ghoul at the edge of their bed. He yawned.

‘THERE’S A CHILD IN YOUR BED! NOT A WOMAN, OR SOME GUY YOU PICKED OFF THE STREET, BUT A _CHILD_!’

‘So you’ve met Hazel.’ He said. Then, he snapped his eyes open, suddenly wide awake. ‘Fuck!’ he said. ‘Fuck, goddamnit!’

‘Thank you!’ Omega spread his arms.

‘He has to take her back! Papa has to take her back!’ the singer looked around him. ‘What time is it?’ Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed his pants and ran out the door.

 

_Is… is that your castle?’ Hazel had asked him after they arrived, looking up at their residence in Lincopia, tightly holding Papa’s hand._

_‘It is where I live.’ Papa had told her. ‘And the ghouls… you know about the Nameless Ghouls?’_

_Hazel nodded._

_‘Well, some of the ghouls live there too. And some of them don’t live there, but they can come and go whenever they want to.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Do you want to take a look inside?’_

_He showed Hazel the gardens and the library. He showed her where they kept the old robes from the ghouls. He showed her the dungeons and took her to the top of the small tower, just because she thought it would be thrilling, all the while holding her little hand. Then, he set her on a stool in the middle of the studio, placed a set of headphones on her curls that were a few sizes too big, and adjusted the microphone to her height._

_‘Say something.’ He told her._

_‘Hi, Papa!’ she giggled, and then her mouth fell open. ‘I can hear myself!’ she said, pointing at her headphones and then pressing her hand to her mouth. She looked at him with big eyes and Papa couldn’t help but feel a warm sympathy for the child._

_‘Wait here.’ He said. Hazel watched him leave through a door, and he was gone. Not a second later, his face reappeared behind a small window. He waved at her, and she waved back_

_‘Rrready?’ she heard his voice in her headphones. His ‘r’ rolled extra long._

_‘For what?’ she shivered. It was weird to hear her own voice like that._

_Papa didn’t answer her. Instead, he played the instrumental version of Cirice. Her face lit up like sunshine._

_‘Sing, gattina!’_

‘Hazel?’ Papa sat down at the edge of his bed, where the little girl was sleeping. She slowly opened her eyes. She smiled.

‘I thought it was a dream.’

Papa smiled too. ‘It wasn’t, my sweet.’

Hazel thought his painted face was beautiful and kind in the light of early morning. Then, she saw something over his shoulder. It was a large man with fierce eyes.

‘This is Omega, Hazel. He is a Nameless Ghoul. Have you heard of Omega?’

Hazel shook her head. The large man crouched down in front of her, and held out his hand.

‘Hello, Hazel.’ He said. His voice was much kinder than she expected. She placed her small hand in his. ‘Hello.’ She said.

‘It is very nice to meet you!’ he said. Hazel blushed. The ghoul got up and gave Papa a weird look. He closed the door as he leaned against it with his shoulder.

Papa took her hand again.

‘Did you have fun?’ he said. She eagerly nodded her head.

‘Me too.’ he continued. ‘It is too bad that fun things always come to an end.’ He placed a hand on her shoulder.

‘Your parents are both asleep, I checked.’ He said, watching with pain how the fear and sadness returned to her earnest grey eyes. ‘I am sorry, but I can’t-’

‘No!’ Hazel cried. ‘Don’t take me back!’

‘I will come visit you, I promise-’

‘No! Papa, please…’

‘I am sorry, _gattina_.’

She cried, because she had known it was too good to be true. Over her delicate and shaking curls, Papa looked up at the ghoul. He shook his head and raised his shoulders. What choice did they have?

‘Papa…’ Hazel cried. ‘Papa, please!’

Papa bit his lip and held her hand. ‘Papa!’

A bolt of lightning shot before Papa’s eyes and his entire body stiffened as he slowly sank back into the mattress, unable to move. Hazel’s cry echoed in his head, but he saw nothing. His breath froze once it passed his lips. A familiar pulsing sound filled his head.

 

‘Finally.’ Papa whispered, surprised any sound left his lips at all. He heard The Devil, she spoke his name. He felt love in her androgynous voice.

‘My child.’ She said. ‘My beautiful son.’ He was still blinded by her, but he felt her kiss pressed to his lips.

‘Lucifer, my love. Are you here to enlighten me?’

‘Yes.’

‘I can hear people call my name.’ He said, banning the crying child from his thoughts and focusing on the predicament of earlier the previous night.

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

Slowly, Papa felt the bed move away from under him. The Devil lifted him up, making him weightless in her embrace.

‘What do you hear when they call out to you?’

‘My name. They call me, Papa.’

‘Why?’

Papa furrowed his brow. ‘They want me.’

‘To do what?’

‘Help them.’

His back hit the mattress hard as she dropped him back to the bed. His head landed on a pillow with a soft smack.

‘Do they?’ The Devil said, quizzically. ‘Who was the first one to call your name?’

‘Diane. Last night.’

‘Was she?’

‘She was the first…. I could actually hear.’ Papa took a deep breath. Had he been able to move, he would have covered his face with his hands. ‘Are there more?’

‘So many more.’ The Devil replied.

‘Why can I hear them?’

 

Footsteps sounded through the room, hollow in the pulsing chamber, where Papa knew Omega and Hazel still were. He wondered if they could hear The Devil, or if she was only speaking to him. He wondered if Omega could comfort the child after Papa had told her she had to return home, before collapsing and being non-responsive, petrified like a corpse.

 

‘Because it is your job.’

Papa closed his mouth. It was? What, exactly? The pulsing sound in the room got louder, and he felt it in his hands and ears. It sang against his eardrums. He wondered if the sound was his own beating heart. Maybe it was a rhythm The Devil dictated, and his body obeyed.

‘Papa Emeritus, highest priest of the Devil’s Church. Leader of those who wish to follow me. What does a priest do?’

‘I vowed to devote my life to You, to spread Your word and to love You above all else.’

Even though he could see nothing, he could feel a smile on her lips.

‘And what does a priest do when his devotees call out for him?’

‘He… he listens.’

 

The mattress dipped as The Devil crawled onto his lap, crushingly heavy and weightless at the same time.

‘Yes, my dear.’ She said. Papa’s heart skipped a beat and so did the pulsing sound around him, but he wasn’t sure why.

‘What did you feel when I said that to you, just now?’ The Devil whispered.

‘Yes, my dear.’ Papa whispered, sucking in a large amount of breath as his heart skipped another beat. ‘I feel fear.’ He heaved. ‘Why do I feel fear?’

‘You don’t.’ The Devil said. ‘ _He_ does.’

‘The Guy?’

The Devil tensed her thighs around him and Papa felt a rush of excitement. Remembering Hazel, who was probably still in the room, Papa pushed that feeling away.

‘I still don’t know how you could regard this man, who has offered you his body and voice, in such an unflattering way, but that is no concern of mine. What is, is his well-being.’

A long tongue flicked out from between her teeth and grazed his cheek.

‘Fuck him up and you will pay.’ She whispered intensely. Then she stepped off the bed, leaving him with her short and unfulfilling answers. Leaving him to figure it out on his own, as she liked to do.

‘Why would I-’ He started, but the pulsing sound started to fade.

 

‘Lucifer!’ he gasped. ‘What about the child?’

Before the pulsing disappeared completely, he heard her voice in his head: _‘What does a priest do when a devotee in need calls out to him?’_

Papa nodded.

 

‘She stays.’ He said to Omega, even before he regained eyesight. ‘The child stays.’


	7. Fatherhood

Papa left his chambers so the child could get dressed. Omega had been walking a few paces before him: striding fast with those long legs of his. Papa wondered why the ghoul did not wait for him, but then again he couldn’t complain about the view of Omega’s glorious behind. Papa licked his lips. It had been a while for the both of them. He wondered if he could convince Omega for a quickie before meeting Hazel for breakfast.

 

The ghoul left the door open for him as Papa followed him inside his chambers. Papa watched him duck, picking up some scattered clothes, placing them over a chair. The pope kicked the door with his heel and made sure his passion could be read in his eyes when the door closed with a loud bang.

Omega ignored it. He seemed busy cleaning up his desk. He stacked some books and pushed them to the left, and straightened papers Papa knew were filled with music and lyrics. Papa suppressed a sigh. He could still feel The Devil in his lap. His body’s urges were pushing out every other thought. Slowly, he unbuttoned some buttons on his costume. He ran a seductive finger over the hairs on his chest. Silently, he closed in on the ghoul.

 

‘Omega…’ he purred in a low voice. He ran a hand over his back, feeling the heat radiating from it. As he got a whiff of his hair, he moaned softly and pressed his hardening member against his ass. The ghoul quickly turned around and backed away.

‘What are you doing?’ he said. Papa blinked.

‘Is something wrong?’ he asked. He was confused, Omega never denied him. But there seemed to be something on the ghoul’s mind. His hands balled into fists as his eyes shot from point to point in the room, avoiding all eye contact with Papa.

‘My love-’

‘Wrong?’ Omega shouted, his face grimacing into a nervous smile. He laughed humorlessly, wringing his hands together. Then his expression changed as anger washed over his face. Papa had never seen him like this.

‘What the fuck is your plan?’ he hissed, clearly trying to sound calm. ‘This child’ he pointed at the door, ‘has parents. Parents who are now probably worrying about her. This is crazy…’ he mumbled the last words, his fingers waving into his hair.

 

‘The parents are abusive-’

‘You don’t know that!’ Omega shouted, but he took a deep breath to calm himself again. ‘You can’t know if the parents are. She is a child. She is clearly shaken and disturbed, but we can’t _kidnap_ a child! That is not our job!’ His voice rose again. ‘We can’t know if she speaks the truth!’

‘She speaks the truth!’ Papa did not raise his voice, but it sounded powerful nevertheless. Omega raised his hands. ‘How can you know that?’ he shouted.

‘I know!’

 

The ghoul turned to shift his books to the right again, but then he stood up straight.

‘That is bullshit!’ he cursed through his teeth. ‘That is bullshit and you know it. You don’t know a thing. You saw a lonely child with a story and you decided you could save her.’ He pointed at Papa’s face. ‘We have to call the fucking police!’

‘We’re _not_ calling the police.’ Papa spoke. He let authority shine through his voice, puffing out his chest a little. He could have expected Omega to doubt the situation, but he did not anticipate these strong emotions coming at him. Omega rolled his eyes and Papa watched him fight back words until he just uttered: ‘why?’

 

‘Because I have to help her!’ Papa blurted, angry now. ‘I have to do that. That _is_ my job.’

‘I knew it!’ Omega immediately retorted. ‘This is about you, not her. How is this good for her? How is taking her from her family and bringing her here… _here_ , of all places, good for her?’

‘Her wellbeing is all I care about here-’

‘How is this serving her wellbeing?’ Omega interrupted him.

Papa turned around and walked towards the door. He couldn’t do this right now. He pulled open the door, but was held back by his own thoughts. He stopped.

‘If we can’t have a normal conversation-’

‘You’re being unreasonable-’ Omega interrupted him again, but this time Papa did raise his voice. He made it boom through Omega’s chambers so loudly that he himself seemed to grow a couple of inches.

‘Listen to me, ghoul!’ his voice filled the entire space. Omega recoiled at being called that. Papa stepped forward, raising his finger. ‘You listen to _me_. This is not your call to make. I am your _Papa_. You will not take that tone with me!’

 

He immediately regretted the words after they had left his mouth, and he watched the shock on Omega’s face. His breathtaking blue eyes grew cold and seemed to sink into his skull, leaving dark circles under them. Papa could clearly see the lines of hurt and disappointment in his face as they grew deeper. The pope’s heart sank, but he straightened his back, because he knew he was in the right.

Astonished, the ghoul looked at him, breath shallow. Papa could tell he was at a loss for words. A moment of silence followed, in which he could hear his heartbeat bang in his ears. Finally, he turned around. He left the room. Omega did not follow him.

 

 

 

Hazel ate as if she had just discovered the taste of food. Papa just sat next to her. He forgot about his pained heart the moment he saw the morning sun bounce off the girl’s ginger curls. He thought of reaching out to her, and petting the child as if she were a small animal. She called out to him, he thought, sitting on his hands. Hazel chewed happily on a piece of fruit. The ones who called out to him were desperate. They had stepped over the precipice and in their fall remembered one last name. Hazel caught his eye and smiled, and he finally dared to take one of her curls between two fingers. He pulled the lock straight, and then let go. It immediately bounced back into shape. Hazel giggled.

Not this one, he thought. He would save this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason I took this long to update is that I was shaken by the recent Ghost news and Omega's reveal. I had planned on writing this fight between Papa and Omega for some time, and posting it so soon after that video just felt odd and disrespectful. It also felt like I would be jumping on the bandwagon. But I hope to be updating regularly now :)


	8. What About The Girl?

‘Hazel?’

The girl looked up into those strange and kind eyes. One of them was green, and just normal, and the other one was white. She didn’t know why. She smiled at him, because she felt happy when he was near. The Papa smiled back.

‘Do you want to talk to me about what happened at home?’

Hazel’s smile faded. She did not want to talk about that. She wanted to shake her head, but Papa looked at her so kindly.

‘My brother…’ she said. All of a sudden, somehow her mouth went completely dry when she said that. Indigo… She looked at her hands. She missed her brother so much. He was ten years older, but he was always very sweet to her. They had a lot of fun together, even when he was sad. He never sent her away. When he was so sad he stayed in bed all day, Hazel would sometimes crawl under the blankets with him.

 

But most of the time he tried to make her laugh. He would tell silly stories and make jokes. They would listen to music together, and even though his records didn’t really interest her, she loved to sing the songs he taught her. Thinking about him made her sad. Missing him felt like having a cold brick in her stomach. She had been carrying that brick for weeks now, and she didn’t know how to get it out. It was going to stay there forever, she feared.

‘My brother…’ she said again. Her brother. She would never see him again. The brick in her stomach got heavier, and she felt her shoulders sag. She didn’t cry a lot, but there was a familiar pain burning in her throat. She swallowed. She was a big girl. When she looked at Papa again, his eyes had grown wide and he looked at her with compassion.

 

‘It’s okay, Hazel.’ He said, and his voice was soft. He placed a gloved hand over both her hands. ‘You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But I think it might help you.’

How could somebody who tried to look so scary be so sweet? Hazel understood why Indigo liked him so. His face was very beautiful.

‘Kids at school are always talking about my brother.’ She finally said. ‘They ask me questions about him.’

‘What kind of questions?’ Papa squeezed her hand a little.

‘They ask me why he died. And if I still love him now that he’s dead.’ She furrowed her brow, remembering what some of the particular mean kids had said to her. ‘Sometimes they tell me I should hate him for killing himself.’

 

‘ _Gattina_ …’ Papa whispered. Hazel could tell he was shaken by that information. But hearing him call her _Gattina_ did make her feel a little lighter.

‘I asked my mom during dinner.’ Hazel said. Papa pulled back his hand to rest his face against it, leaning on the table. He looked at her with interest.

‘You asked her what?’

‘If I should hate Indigo.’ Her throat started to hurt again.

‘And what did she say?’

Hazel looked at her hands, that were rapidly growing cold now. ‘She just cried. And my daddy said: “Fuck off, Hazel.”.’ She looked up at Papa, grinning for using a curse word. But her smile dropped quickly, because she didn’t think it was funny after all.

‘I don’t hate Indigo.’ She whispered, swallowing again. Her throat started to really hurt now. She didn’t want to cry, because she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop.

‘No, darling, of course you don’t.’ Papa placed a hand on her back and slowly rubbed her shoulders. ‘Of course you don’t.’ He said again.

 

Indigo was right. Papa was the greatest man she had ever met. Hazel closed her eyes and reached out to him. She wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her cheek to his chest. She held him tight. She listened to his heartbeat as Papa contemplated, and then gave in. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around the little girl.

 

 

‘Are you okay?’

Papa had finally allowed him to unmask, and immediately after the small ritual he had sprinted to Omega’s chambers. The ghoul had moved his big and comfy chair to the window, and was playing his guitar. His headphones were on.

The unmasked singer entered the room when he got no response. Omega looked peaceful, but he know the ghoul was hurt. His eyes were beautiful when the man touched his shoulder, and he looked up.

 

‘Kitten.’ He said. He sounded tired. The Guy knew he was emotional, because Omega had only called him Kitten when they were being intimate.

‘Hi, Handsome.’ Gently, he lifted the headphones off of him. ‘How are you?’

Omega shrugged, but the way he looked up at him made his heart sink. The singer placed his fingers under the ghoul’s chin and kissed him.

‘I’m sorry.’ He whispered, kissing him again. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Hey, hey!’ Omega grabbed his hands now, urging him to look him in the eye. ‘That wasn’t you. Don’t feel guilty for what he did.’

‘I wanted to come to you sooner, I… I am sorry he said that to you.’

Omega shook his head, silencing him. The singer took a deep breath. He stopped himself. He was supposed to be comforting his love, not the other way around. Instead, he grabbed Omega’s guitar and carefully put it away. The chair was too small for him to plant his knees next to the ghoul’s legs and straddle him, so he sat in his lap and threw his legs over the armrest. Omega wrapped his arms around him as he sweetly kissed his cheek.

 

‘I had a dream last night.’ The singer whispered. He tenderly ran his  fingers over the hairs on Omega’s face. ‘I murdered you.’

Omega looked at him. The singer bit his lip at the butterflies he felt, still.

‘Why?’ the ghoul said.

‘Because you asked me to.’ He couldn’t read the expression on the ghoul’s face, when he said: ‘I don’t think that dream was meant for me.’ Omega blinked his eyes.

 

‘Are you saying The Devil wants Papa to murder me?’

The singer shook his head. ‘No. But the way he talked to you this morning…’ In their shared silence an understanding grew between them. The singer pressed his lips to the ghoul’s cheek.

‘You’re tired, Omega.’ He whispered. A slight and playful grin appeared on Omega’s face. The Guy ran his fingers down, under the collar of his black shirt. ‘Yes, very tired. I should take you to bed.’

With a grunt, Omega stood up, lifting the singer in his arms. He walked them over to his bed and let them fall to the mattress. He sighed happily as the other kissed his neck. The singer started unbuttoning his shirt, leaving a trail of warm kisses on his collarbone.

 

‘I love you, you know that, right?’ The Guy said. He looked up to see his ghoul’s eyes dark and shining. ‘I love you.’ he said again. Omega smiled and held him tighter.

‘Thank you.’ he whispered.


	9. The Thunder

When the singer woke the next morning, Omega sat on the edge of the bed, his back turned to him. He looked peaceful, and his broad shoulders slowly moved as he breathed calmly. The singer couldn’t tell what he as looking at. He lifted his hand to press his palm to the cooling skin of his ghoul. He looked up in surprise.

‘Morning.’ The singer smiled. Omega did not return his greeting.

‘Is there something you can do?’ He whispered. The singer rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

‘About what exactly?’

‘The girl.’ Omega turned, and the singer pulled back his hand. The ghoul looked tired.

‘Did you not sleep well?’ the singer said. Omega shook his head.

‘I can’t get past the fact that we stole a child.’ He looked at his hands. ‘I can’t understand why Papa would want to keep her here.’

The singer didn’t say anything.

 

‘This is no place for a little girl.’ The ghoul said, shaking his head. He stood up. ‘She needs a home. This can’t be her home.’

‘It is my home.’ The singer said softly, but he wasn’t sure if Omega heard.

‘What can she do here? She is too young to choose to be part of The Clergy. We can’t keep her here until she can decide if she wants to be a novice or a priest. We can’t be her… her parents.’

 

A silence fell between them, and the singer knew the initial cause was the idea of them one day raising a child together. He hadn’t looked at the situation that way before. He let his gaze glide over Omega’s form, his kind face. He caught an emotion he didn’t recognize: excitement? Worry? Insecurity? But then his expression hardened and the singer thought about the girl again.

‘But her parents abuse her.’ He said softly. Omega looked away. Slowly, he started walking towards the window.

‘You agree with Papa.’ He said coolly. He opened a curtain and leaned on the window sill. He looked away from his lover, and into the new day outside. The man on the bed plucked his pillow.

‘Papa fears for her life.’ He said softly. Omega looked at him now. ‘I don’t even think because of her parents. I thinks he senses something dangerous within her.’

‘Something dangerous in Hazel?’

 

‘Omega…’ He said it so softly that the ghoul finally seemed to drop his stubborn decision to look away from him. ‘My vision is getting blurred. I told you I can feel everything he feels, and that I know all his thoughts?’ The ghoul nodded.

‘It is like I am looking at him through a fog. As if I can hear him talk in another room.’

‘How long has it been this way?’ Omega said. He sounded reluctant to hear about Papa, but his curiosity won. He walked back to the bed, and sat down at the other man’s feet.

‘Not that long, but I think it is getting worse. And that dream…’ Then his eyes got large, and he took a sharp, deep breath, as if he suddenly remembered something. ‘He is hearing voices.’ He said.

 

Omega opened his mouth, because he had so many questions, but at that moment the door flew open. Both men looked up, agitated, because privacy was respected here and usually people would just knock. But when they saw Sister Imperator standing there, small but fierce and with an expression telling them to not even _try_ protest, they held their tongues.

‘Son.’ She said, looking at the singer with fire in her yes. ‘We need the pope. Now.’

‘Can it wait-’ the singer’s voice died down as the anger in her frown increased. The Sister huffed as the man pressed a kiss to the ghouls lips. He looked his lover deep into his eyes, making a silent promise their talk would continue, feeling in his heart the ghoul was questioning his devotion.

‘Son!’

‘Yes.’ The singer said. Omega remained sitting on the bed as he looked for his pants and followed the Sister.

 

‘Lucifer!’ Papa bellowed as he got called back from his sleep. The Sister pulled her hands from his shoulders and he grinned upon seeing her serious grey eyes. He meant to great the mean old witch with a kiss to the cheek because it usually infuriated her and he enjoyed that a lot, but all of a sudden his mind got overtaken by noise. He went deaf as the air around him seemed to glow hot with sound vibration, the noise growing even louder as it seemed to come from both outside as within. The man gasped, seeing the Sister nod, as if she had been expecting it.

‘Control it, Emeritus!’ He couldn’t hear her, but her lips moved. ‘Grasp it.’

He placed his hands over his ears, but the sound kept coming, and slowly, Papa realized what it was. The noise started to fall apart into distinct and familiar sounds, first like very heavy rain ramming his skull, as if it tried to seep through. Then, the many stings of the raindrops seemed to crystalize into what Papa could only describe as screaming voices. Voices in despair. And they all called out for him. He sank to his knees as some seemed to fade, some seemed to drag into less desperate sighs, and some seemed to stop abruptly. He turned his bloodshot eyes up at the Sister.

 

‘I can’t do it.’ He said. ‘Lucifer, I can’t do it.’

Sister Imperator rolled her eyes. ‘Choose one.’ She said.

Papa swallowed hard. He tried to listen more closely, but there were so many. Some voices were louder, but others were more shrill, and even the whispers were very clear to him. The Sister grabbed his chin and Papa raid the word ‘choose’ on her lips again. Some of the voices were taking on colors in his mind now, and stains of red and green bled over his eyes, and Papa started to panic, afraid he was going blind now too. Then, one of the voices swelled up and emitted a bright, white light. Papa reached for it, pointed at it, hoping it was enough. He almost cried with relief when the other voices died down, and he could see and hear again, the one voice in white remaining.

 

The voice now seemed to take form, and grow. He was so sure he was going mad, but then Papa looked at the Sister, and he could tell that she saw it too. This was not just in his mind.

The voice softened to a more comfortable level, and the human behind it started to seem clear as the light dimmed. But with the light, the sound also faded, and the ghostly appearance of a young man remained, his lips forming Papa’s name over and over. He stared into the distance, as if he couldn’t see the sister and the pope.

Papa’s mouth fell open, because he knew immediately who he was.


	10. The Light That Guides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO

Indigo stared past him as Papa rose to his feet, mouth agape. He hadn’t considered the possibility of the boy coming back as a ghost. Looking at him, Papa felt a cold sting to his heart. _He looks exactly the same_ , was the first thing that went through his mind, but that wasn’t true, of course. Indigo floated before him, silent and dead. The white light hardening and fading inconsistently.

 

‘Ghosts.’ Papa heard the Sister say. ‘We’ve never had ghosts.’ They looked at each other and the Sister pressed her fingers to her mouth.

‘Indigo.’ Papa reached out to the young man, his fingertips freezing the moment they would’ve touched his arm. Papa pulled back as a reflex, afraid that something might happen, or that the ghost might leave, but Indigo kept floating there, his lips forming Papa’s name over and over again.

‘Indigo?’ Papa said again. He looked up, expectantly, but everything stayed the same. He looked to the Sister again.

‘Do you… do you know if we can communicate with him?’

The Sister’s eyes had grown wide. She had to take a few second before she tore her gaze away from the floating boy.

‘I’ll get Alma.’ she said, her voice hoarse. She backed away slowly, and closed the door softly, as if not to startle the apparent blind and deaf young man.

The door clicked.

 

‘Papa.’

Papa gasped audibly when the voice drifted through the room, thin and fragile. The voice had come from the ghost, but it still seemed to stare in the distance. Papa swallowed. He was still so beautiful. So young and slender. He had grown a lot in a year. If he squinted, he could almost see the skull-like face paint and the blue hair dye. His eyes were big, and they shone with the now so familiar sadness.

‘My boy.’ Papa whispered. ‘I am so sorry.’

Indigo looked around him, as if he had heard something vague in the distance. Then he looked Papa in the eye. Papa felt as if his heart stopped. He reached out to the young man again, but suddenly he turned away, and disappeared through a wall.

For three whole seconds Papa stood there, unsure of what had just happened, before sprinting out of the room.

‘Stop!’ He shouted. He pulled open the door next to the room he just left, seeing some books fall from a shelf as Indigo marched through it. The books were moved by the wind coming from the opened window, but Papa was taken aback by it.

‘No!’ he yelled again. The next door led to a broom closet, and again he was too late. He ran to the end of the hall, opening the door to the restrooms, and stormed inside.

‘Indigo! Stop!’ he called, but then he was blinded by a white light all of a sudden, and his entire body froze. Shaking, he fell to his knees, his breath high in his chest. The cold left him as quickly as it came, and he looked back. Indigo had passed right through him. Papa started to cough loudly. He gasped for breath. The ghost hung in the air and slowly turned to him.

 

‘You can’t.’ Papa whispered. ‘You can’t see your sister.’

Indigo’s eyes seemed to grow even wider and his white light dimmed. He came down, floating at eyelevel with the pope. Goddamn. He had grown taller than him, Papa thought. _And then to dust_. Papa shook that thought.

‘You can’t go to her, Indigo.’ He said again.

 _Papa_ Indigo’s lips formed.

‘Indigo… you are dead.’

A tear welled up in Papa’s eye when he saw the expression on the young man’s face. Indigo looked down, raised his hand to his own chest. He pressed his finger to where his heart had been, and saw his hand slide through his body as if it were nothing. Because it was nothing.

‘I am so sorry.’ Papa said again.

‘Blossom.’ Papa’s heart skipped a beat when the ghost spoke. Indigo nodded.

‘What?’ Papa said. He looked at Indigo, but he spoke no more.

‘What?’ Papa repeated. ‘Blossom? What do you mean?’ But the ghost seemed distracted. His eyes wandered off, and he floated through the door again. This time, he moved slowly, and Papa followed him with a timid pace. He was led back to the Sister’s office.

 

Indigo turned in the middle of the room. He seemed to search for a way to utter the last thing on his mind. He held a finger next to his head and twisted it, as if to twirl his hair around it. Hazel.

‘I’ll take care of her.’ Papa said softly. ‘I promise.’

Indigo didn’t smile or nod. He slowly lowered his arm and looked down. His light seemed to dim even more. Papa squinted his eyes, to see him better in the dark room, but Indigo had faded. He had gone completely.

 

‘Blossom.’ Papa said aloud as he paced the steps of the large stairway. He twisted a lock of his hair around his finger. ‘Blossom.’

What did it mean? How could Indigo have been here. He stopped in his tracks. Was it a dream again? He looked around him, but everything looked normal. There was no pulsing sound. He needed to share what he had seen. He would tell the Sister and Alma Mater later, but now he needed to talk to someone close. He opened the door to Omega’s chambers without knocking and marched inside.

 

‘Omega, my love, I have-’

Omega stood up from his writing with a loud grunt. ‘Out!’ He pointed towards the door. Papa’s mouth fell open.

‘Omega, wha-’

‘Out, _priest_!’ the ghoul roared. ‘If I am your lover you ought to be crawling back in here on your knees. If I am your disciple you can knock before entering. And let me have the right not to answer.’

Papa looked at his hands. In the excitement over seeing an actual ghost he had forgotten about his abominable behavior of earlier.

‘Omega…’

‘No. Not now. I can’t now. Leave.’ Omega turned his back. ‘Please.’

It didn’t seem wise to argue. Disenchanted, Papa turned back and closed the door behind him. Then, a thought closed around him like an invisible hand.

 

It wasn’t his thought. But the thought was aimed at him. Another call? He didn’t hear his name this time, and the thought didn’t feel as urgent as some of the calls had been. He inhaled deeply. It was as if he almost caught the smell of something, almost grasped the memory. The thought tightened around him, but he wasn’t sure if that was because the thought was calling him, or he was calling for it to tell him more. He worried. Was this the call of someone in despair? The thought gripped him tighter. Was this the call of someone dying? And then, it took him. He remembered. And he was horrified, because he wouldn’t have expected this person to call out for help. She had gone through rough times, yes, but she seemed so happy when he last kissed her goodbye. The night before she would leave the tour to hike to Canada.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO AGAIIIN


	11. Tighter

Papa arrived in what looked like a small motel bedroom, and he could hardly describe how he felt when he saw what he saw. His heart stopped. It broke and it swelled with joy at the same time. Chicago stood in the middle of the room, humming softly to herself as she sorted her clean laundry. Papa didn’t think she realized it was one of his songs. The woman’s presence felt exactly the same: she was still the pleasant mixture of home, excitement and regret, but there was also something different about her. She seemed lighter. In the metaphorical sense, though, physically there seemed to be more of her: her hips and face were fuller and her arms and legs stronger and more defined. More Chicago.

 

Papa smiled to himself. He silently blew out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. She seemed better. As he watched her roll up her freshly washed clothes, cramming it in to her backpack, he realized she looked free. Just before he decided he should leave her at peace, she looked up. He saw the muscles in her neck tighten. She turned, eyes on the ground. Her eyes were still covered in dark makeup. One thing that would always stay the same.

 

Chicago dropped the shirt onto the bed and took a step in his direction. As her eyes trailed the dark and empty space before her, she hesitated. She couldn’t see him. There was no way she could.

‘I honestly never expected to see you ever again.’ She whispered after a while. Papa remained quiet. If he had learnt anything, it was that people imagined conversations with him. She stepped closer toward him, her fingers edging the shadows he pulled up. She said nothing, but he could taste his name on her lips. He watched as her hand drew closer, and her eyes stared blindly at a spot right above his shoulder. They both inhaled sharply when her fingertips touched his chest.

 

‘Please tell me you are here for me and not some random skank you were supposed to meet in a shady motel.’ She said, and she grinned, somewhat relieved, as he placed a gloved hand over hers.

‘Papa…’ The grin disappeared when he dropped his guard and made himself visible to her.

‘Are you alright?’ she whispered. Papa quickly pulled himself together and smiled bravely before opening his arms and pulling her in for a warm hug.

‘I am now.’ He purred. ‘How is my Ghuleh?’ He pulled back and placed a finger under her chin to look her in the eye. He saw her look from his green to his white eye and back. He knew she was fascinated by them. She raised a hand to touch his face too.

 

‘What is wrong?’ she said. The tone in her voice made his shoulders sag and his hands trailed down to her full hips.

‘I am always alright.’ He said softly. They both kept silent for a while as her fingers trailed down his neck. She rested her hands on his chest.

‘Death is literally painted on your face.’ She finally answered. Papa lowered his head. Now it was her turn to lift his chin, and when she pressed her soft lips against his it felt familiar, comforting and kind. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed his cheek against her, between chest and shoulder, running warm fingers through his hair.

‘Oh, Chicago, Chicago.’ He moaned.

‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’ She whispered in his ear. A painful sob crawled up to his throat, but he suppressed it. After everything that happened, he thought, _she_ was comforting _him_. He felt a great loss in is heart and he knew that, had he treated her right, things would have been different now. Things would have been better. Omega wouldn’t hate him. Indigo would still be alive. He could have saved this one woman from heartache and it would have banished all sorrow from this earth. It was a silly thought, but then, and there in Chicago’s arms, it was the truth. He clung to her as if his life depended on it.

 

His fingers clawed into her hips when he felt the sting of regret and he moaned her name again. He immediately smelled her arousal, but he took a deep breath to steady himself. He didn’t deserve her. He didn’t deserve anything. She pulled him back and he could read regret in her eyes too, but need was the more prevalent emotion when her lips closed over his again and he forgot his reservations when her tongue danced past his lips. _Kiss it better_ , he thought. Don’t we all like to try.

 

Chicago gave him a meaningful look when she took his hand and led him to the bed. He watched how her neck gracefully curved into her shoulder as she moved. He didn’t know what to say. But somehow he knew that talking was not an option right now. Chicago turned, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him down. She crawled on top of him, holding him down with her weight, and licked his lips. Her kisses tasted sweet. She trailed her lips down his neck and hummed against his sternum. Her warmth seemed to loosen the knot in his throat a little. Quick fingers unfastened his costume and belt. She roughly pushed the fabric aside and sat up, revealing her full and beautiful breasts as she took off her shirt. She pressed her naked upper body against his chest with great need. They both moaned contently into the next kiss: skin finally against skin. He grabbed her neck and used the other arm to press her tightly against him, savoring the kiss for as long as he could. Chicago pulled his hair so roughly it almost made his eyes water and she stepped out of her boxers, crawling between his legs and opening his pants.

 

‘Oh Chicago, you don’t have to..’ he said for form, but she tenaciously grabbed his dick and worked the tip into her warm and eager mouth.

Papa sighed, his cock hardening under her experienced touch. She was gentle, licking and sucking him with care until he was fully erect. He wove his shaking fingers in her hair. Eyes on him, she pulled his cock from her mouth, leaving behind a small thread of spit. Papa raised his hands to her hips as she crawled back up over him, still holding on to his dick, steadied herself and slowly guided him inside her as she lowered herself. Papa closed his eyes at the feeling of her wet cunt. She smelled so amazing. Her familiarity was bittersweet. He savored the small sounds coming from her as she started to move on him.

 

Chicago leaned her hands on his chest and he ran his thumbs over her nipples, smiling as her pussy contracted around him. A hand trailed down and disappeared in the hairs over her pubis. Once, she had a neatly groomed stripe of hair there, but the grooming had been neglected and the woman had grown a proper bush. Papa licked his teeth as he moved his thumb through it and finally reached the sensitive bundle of nerves between her wet lips. Chicago leaned back to grant him more access and continued to move up and down and roll her hips, allowing Papa to massage her to her climax.

 

She came loud, like he taught her, and her contracting pussy spilled her juices richly over his cock. He watched her full breasts as she heaved, head lulled back. Her body relaxed and she slowly fell forward, pressing herself against him. Holding her, he planted his heels in the mattress. Chicago bit his neck and massaged his ears as Papa started to rock his hips, grunting as he thrusted into her. His release came soon after, as she whispered filthy words to him, sucking an earlobe into her mouth. It wasn’t sweet or completely saturating, but it was all he could ask for now. He moaned and she squealed as he spilled himself inside her. He tightened his arms around her, even after he came down from his high and the rest of his body relaxed.

 

Chicago’s first attempt to gently roll away from his tight and sweaty grip failed. Again, she stroked his hair and the touch itself asked the same question as earlier: what’s wrong? Finally, Papa felt he had the courage to let go. She set herself beside him. Chicago waited patiently for him to discard the rest of his clothes and then pressed a hand over his heart. After everything, he thought, she still loved him. He grabbed her hand and grazed a soft kiss against it before putting it back down to his chest.

‘So, Mexico?’ he whispered. His wet dick was cooling down after it had left her body, but the temperature in the room was high and his back was still sweating into the sheets.

‘You know what? Turns out Canada actually gets super cold in winter.’ Chicago grinned into his shoulder. ‘I will definitely go there, but maybe when I don’t have to worry about freezing to death. He smiled, pulling up an arm around her.

‘You are amazing.’ He mumbled into her hair. The hand on his chest balled into a fist and she wrapped a leg around him. He could feel the unasked questions dance over her lips. He imagined questions about Omega. Questions he was asking himself now too.

 

Chicago ran her fingers over his pale skin, watching the small hairs stand on end where she touched him.

‘Papa…’ she whispered. His jaw tightened. He didn’t know what to say to her. He knew Omega thought of her, but he never talked about it.

‘If this is the last time you ever visit me…’ her fingers stopped in their tracks. She lifted her head and her warm eyes pierced him. Only a woman could give these kinds of looks. A look of care, but also a warning not to let her down.

‘I want you to know-’

‘I know.’ He interrupted, squeezing her hand. Making her say she loved him seemed cruel. He wouldn’t accept it this time.

‘No, you don’t. Chicago pulled her hand back and leaned up on her elbows. ‘I want you to know how easy it is for you to sweep girls like me off our feet.’ Her look was stern, demanding his full attention.

‘I am not religious, I do not find comfort in astrology or meditation. I don’t really have a family. I wanted to turn to a higher power, because I couldn’t find any strength within myself anymore, but I couldn’t turn to a higher power, because I don’t believe there is one.’ Papa twirled the end of a lock of her long hair around his finger, listening carefully.

‘So when a demon comes along, a dark and intriguing creature, who introduces me to a world of magic and music and orgasms way beyond my imagination…’ Her fingers walked down over his stomach, caressed the trail of hair under his navel. ‘… of course I’d be yours.’ Her fingertips caressed his ball sack and Papa suppressed a moan. His cock twitched.

‘When something that was always presented to me by others as evil, untrustworthy and wrong turns out to be everything I’ve ever dreamed off… It is heartbreaking to have faith in something, whichever way you choose to look at it. A God doesn’t answer prayers. Meditation cannot take you out of a harmful situation. Your family might not love or accept you. _You_ make me feel real when you desire me and you make me feel invisible when you don’t.’

 

She bit her lip, still working her fingers over Papa’s lower body. She massaged his balls and ran her fingers through his pubic hair. Papa tried his best to focus on her words.

‘Girls aren’t afraid of monsters, Papa.’ Chicago whispered, closing in on him. Papa closed his eyes as she firmly grabbed his dick. The next words were whispered against his lips. ‘We’re just afraid they might not love us back.’

 

Papa opened his lips, feeling nothing more than her firm hand on his cock, waiting for the kiss. But it never came: Chicago had sighed deeply and pulled back from him. From his face, from his dick. Papa needed a moment to comprehend the situation.

‘I… I’m not sure…’

‘I am telling you to be careful.’ She said. ‘You cannot bring every stray cat home. You cannot make promises to the ones that stay behind.’ She rolled onto her back, giving him a last, knowing smile. ‘You can’t always be sure they’ll land on their feet after you return them to the streets.’

 

Chicago stood up and collected her clothes. She looked so serene, no haste in her movements as she dressed herself.

‘But you seem…’ Papa thought for a moment, leaning up on his elbows. ‘Are you not doing alright?’

Chicago unrolled two clean socks and gave him a smile he couldn’t really place. ‘I’m doing great.’ She said. ‘Actually, never been this good.’ She sat down next to him to put on the socks and her big, brown hiking shoes. ‘But I am just me. You know what I mean?’

Papa nodded, because he thought he understood now. He watched how she tied her laces tightly.

‘Are you going somewhere?’

 

Chicago pulled a thin jacket from a chair and put it on, pulling her hair over one shoulder.

‘Across the street there is a bar and the barman gets off work in a couple of minutes.’ She looked at her feet. ‘He likes me a lot. He has kind eyes…’ As if she only then realized what she was saying, she moved again. She shot a short and guilty look at Papa, who was still naked on the bed, and found her keys. She cleared her throat.

‘I am leaving tomorrow, so…’

‘Chicago!’ Papa said loudly, in his voice surprise and admiration. He looked at himself and feigned indignation. ‘I’m glad I could help you get rid of some tension, then.’

She smiled at him, hand on the door handle. Papa counted his heartbeat and the many emotions in her eyes.

 

‘Will I see you again?’ She finally said, her voice soft. ‘And if you say no, will that be the truth?’

Papa sat up. He looked at her. ‘I don’t know.’ He said.

‘And are you going to tell-’ she stopped herself. Omega, Papa thought. Are you going to tell Omega.

‘I don’t know.’ He said again. Chicago nodded. She opened the door, but Papa jumped up and the movement made her stop. He didn’t care he was naked in the door opening when he cupped her face with both hands and pressed an urgent kiss to her brow. His lips made a soft smacking sound when he pulled back. Quickly, Chicago slammed the door shut. A loud sigh escaped her when she threw her arms around him. Hold me tighter, Papa thought as she crushed him against her. He wove his fingers in her hair and felt her heartbeat under his hand. Their embrace went on and on. Tighter, Papa thought, as her digits dug into his back. Somehow her clothed body felt good against his naked skin. She let go of him before he was truly ready to break apart.

‘Take care of yourself.’ She said, touching his cheek. And then she left, because her life was here right now, and across the street. The sound of her hiking shoes faded on the pavement outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't normally do this, but I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Please leave a comment if you like :)


	12. What About The Ghoul?

Papa had slowly dressed himself, and looked around the small motel room. He let his hands go over the open backpack on the chair. His fingers touched fabric, and for a second he contemplated stealing the T-shirt. He brought it to his face, inhaled deeply, and then dropped it again. Chicago wasn’t who he really needed right now. There was only one who could fill the void in his heart. Papa felt healed for a small bit, having seen her doing well, but it stung. Him deciding to come here stung. Chicago not needing him like she used to stung. And visiting her, even though she was so special to Omega, that stung. He grabbed the T-shirt again. He clenched it in his fist, waves of shame and loneliness washing over him, but sill a lightness in it. Chicago’s warm smile. The promise of a sunrise.

 

Once again, he dropped the piece of clothing and then he thought of home. Omega’s chambers. He was there before he could exhale. He knew better than to barge in this time. He knocked on the door and dropped to his knees. It was silent inside. Papa looked around him, having traveled so far so fast had shaken his perception of time, but a quick calculation told him it was early morning in Lincopia.

 

When he fiddled the handle, he found the door locked. He pressed his ear to the door in the hope he could hear Omega snore. But nothing. He sat down, and leaned against the wood. His heavy eyelids falling, even though he kept fighting it. He tapped his head against the door to wake himself up, but mere seconds later he found himself drowning in sleep. The dim light of the hallway slowly faded.

 

His hands were around Omega’s throat.

‘Harder, Papa!’ Omega heaved, and Papa felt it in his own throat. It was a pain caused by choking on tears. He felt them rolling down his face, salty and wet.

‘Yes, my dear.’ Papa cried. Omega’s black eyes turned blue again as Papa broke his throat, the awful sound ringing in his ears. The bed soaked in his blood. Papa felt him pulverize under his hands.

 

‘Omega!’ Papa cried aloud, and the sound of his own voice woke him up. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, leaning against Omega’s door. When he touched his face to rub the sleep from his eyes, he felt the tears. The tears weren’t just a dream.

Quickly, he stood up, cold fear suddenly wrapping around his heart. He looked at his hands, half expecting his gloves to be red with blood, but was relieved to find they were still white. He sighed, tired, head heavy from sleep, throat still clenching with emotion. Then, slowly, blood spread over his hand. He had no idea where it came from, but it bled into the fabric. Another drop. Then another one. Stress rose through Papa’s chest on the wave of goosebumps spreading over his skin. He was about to lose it when this time he could feel it run down his upper lip.

 

He pressed the already soiled glove to his bleeding nose, trying to suppress the panic he felt. This was just a bloody nose, he told himself, but the dream had been so clear in his mind that he was unable to calm down. Another tear rolled down his cheek, because he felt more exhausted than he had ever felt in his life.

 

‘Papa?’

Papa grunted in agony when he heard another voice calling for him. He couldn’t do it. He had never been this tired. He had never felt this much heartache. It was as if all the pain in the world was inside him. He tried to remember the voice, but when he turned, he saw the source of it.

 

Indigo floated before him, pale and transparent as before, his toes almost touching the ground.

‘Indigo.’ Papa sighed. He needed to lay down in Omega’s bed. He needed to rest for a couple of days.

‘What is wrong, my boy?’ Papa said. It sounded muffled, because he was still pressing his hand to his nose.

Indigo opened his mouth and his eyes widened. He raised his arm, and pointed to Omega’s door. Papa’s heart sunk.

‘What is it?’ he stammered. ‘Indigo, what do you see?’

The boy remained silent, but Papa felt like he knew. Maybe it was because of his dream, but he knew before he thought himself into Omega’s chambers, that the ghoul was being visited by The Devil.

 

 

-

 

It was rather obvious that The Devil had been expecting Papa to enter. She looked at him before he entered, it felt, and her mouth formed a thin, strict line.

‘Emeritus.’ Papa heard her voice in his head. He blinked. Everything in the room seemed off. The light falling through the curtains wasn’t natural. The colors of the sheets. Omega’s desk stood on the wrong side of the room. It smelled like sulfur. The Devil moved. Then, Papa saw him. Omega sat in the corner, on the floor. His eyes were open, and he was staring at nothing. His lips were lightly parted.

 

‘What did you do to him?’ Papa said, panicked voice.

‘Nothing.’ The Devil replied. ‘I wouldn’t do anything to him.’

‘You didn’t try to claim his soul again?’

‘You know he would never consent to that, my son.’ She said, bored. Papa wanted to go to his ghoul, but he couldn’t walk. The Devil restricted his movements.

‘He is dreaming, Emeritus.’ She said. ‘Just like you were, moments ago.’

 

Papa looked at Omega, but his face betrayed nothing. He wondered if, in his dream, Omega could feel Papa’s hands around his throat.

And Papa realized that maybe it wasn’t even Lucifer giving him dreams like that. His behavior towards Omega had been worsening for some time now. Even though he loved the ghoul dearly, he had felt himself getting less patient with him, more demanding, less open. He heard Chicago’s words in his head:

 

‘ _…aren’t afraid of monsters Papa. We’re just afraid they might not love us back._ ’


	13. Howling Wind

The pupils of Omega’s eyes grew and shrunk as if he saw things moving around the room. If it was a stressful dream, his breathing wouldn’t be this calm, Papa thought. He looked at The Devil, who still kept her eyes on him.

‘What do you want from him?’ Papa whispered. Lucifer stood up, and Papa felt like recoiling, even though she was restricting his movements.

‘Why do you think I’m here to gain from him, Emeritus?’ She said. Her voice boomed loudly in his head. She took long, slow steps, even though she didn’t have to take steps to move. Emeritus didn’t get his feel for drama from a stranger.

 

She towered over him, and he had to lean back to look her in the eye.

‘What if I told you your ghoul reached out to me?’

Papa squinted his eyes, and looked at Omega again. He felt the need to touch him.

‘He reached out to you?’ Papa whispered. Had Omega been that desperate?

‘So what are you showing him?’

The Devil said nothing. Something shimmered in the room. Papa saw the reflection in his ghoul’s eyes. He looked at ease.

‘Why is he sitting there?’ Papa didn’t know why he was still speaking. ‘How long will he be sitting there?’

 

Omega moved a little: he blinked his eyes, even though they didn’t shut all the way. Then, Papa recognized an expression on his face.

‘You’re comforting him.’ he said softly.

‘I am showing him the day he decided to join us.’ Lucifer answered. Papa looked at her, maybe expecting to see mercy in her, but The Devil was as unfathomable as ever.  He envied his predecessor, the first Papa Emeritus, who had had the honor of welcoming the ghoul.

 

‘Get some rest, Emeritus.’ Lucifer said. She turned her back to him. ‘Some actual rest. You’ll be needing it. It’ll be some time before you tour again and there are many calling out for a priest.’

 

This time, Papa was able to use the door. To his surprise, Indigo was still outside. He stared at his ghost, hoping for something that indicated what he wanted, but the boy just floated there, looking at him. Papa closed the door behind him. The Sister was probably asleep at this hour, and he felt onerous waking her now for the unmasking. Alma Mater wasn’t at the castle. Papa sighed. He decided to ask Water for help, since a ghoul was allowed to do the unmasking too, but only if another ghoul attended the ritual. They could decide together which ghoul to wake. He expected the Water ghoul to still be up, since he slept mostly during the day.

 

When he started his way through the halls, he noticed Indigo followed. The boy kept beside him, silent, but Papa could feel his grief. He recognized his broken heart. When they passed a window, he saw that the sun was still down. He turned to the boy, who stopped when he did.

‘Okay.’ He said. He bowed his head. ‘But she can’t see you.’

Indigo’s light seemed to shine brighter when Papa led him to his chambers. Papa listened at the door, but he heard nothing, so he carefully opened it. Hazel was sound asleep. Her ginger curls spread over the pillow. He stepped aside so that the ghost could see. He didn’t have to look at the boy to know how it moved him. Papa swallowed hard, feeling a deep compassion for the both of them.

‘Blossom.’

It was a weak, broken voice. Hardly the voice of a person anymore. When Papa turned to the boy, he realized why, in folklore, ghosts weep. If it was possible, Indigo had turned even whiter and more transparent, and his face grimaced in every expression of grief imaginable. He seemed to float higher, grabbing for his own throat. And then, he let out a chilling cry, and another one, long and loud howls, as he floated away from Papa’s chambers. His echo sounded through the castle. Papa felt that he was gone, but the wind seemed to have taken over the howling.

 

Hazel stirred, and Papa silently slipped inside. He pulled in a chair to sit next to her. She didn’t wake, and Papa sighed with relief. She couldn’t see him like this.

‘I’m sorry, _gattina_.’ He was so tired. He fought the urge to run his fingers through her hair.

‘You don’t deserve this life. You deserve to be a child and spend your days with loving family.’

He thought about his love, and bit his lip.

‘People make mistakes, _gattina_.’ He said. ‘People fuck up all the time. And we have to learn from the shit we do. Sometimes, people don’t forgive each other. And they shouldn’t have to.’ He swallowed, thinking of Omega, and how he sat there in his room.

‘But Lucifer will always take you under his wing. Your brother was right.’ Papa bowed his head. ‘And I think Indigo knows that now.’

 

He looked at the little girl. She slept as if she was a normal child. She slept as if she wasn’t abducted by a skeleton pope because of how broken her family was.

 _Hazel!_ Her father’s angry voice sounded in Papa’s head. Loud footsteps on the stairs. _Get your fucking ass down here!_ He closed his eyes. He couldn’t imagine what horrors the child must have been through, what her brother must have been through.

 

It was a lie. Of course he could imagine. He balled his fists. Omega was right. Just keeping her here was not the solution. He was the goddamn highest priest of the church of Satan. He could scare the life out of that man, force him to behave. Instill a fear in him that would make him keep his hands to himself, and that would make him care for her. What she deserved.

 

He stood up, faster than he meant to, but Hazel slept on. He would have a talk with him. And then some well-deserved rest.

Before he headed out, he turned to Hazel one last time. He stood there a couple of seconds, watching how her back peacefully expanded as she breathed.

‘Sleep, little one.’ He whispered. After some hesitation he bowed down and pressed a gentle kiss to her crown. ‘Your Papa is going to kick your daddy’s ass.’

 

He smiled. He would kick anyone’s ass for her. He would save this one.


	14. What Happens In The Dark

Waking up as himself always felt like a breath of fresh air. The singer loved being Papa, he loved everything the demon pope got up to when taking the wheel. But being himself, the main driver of his body, he loved the most. It was interesting how he saw himself in another light now that he had chosen to sacrifice his body and his voice.

 

The singer took a deep breath as he yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He felt as if he had been asleep for hours, that is how rested his body felt. From the light falling through the curtains of his chambers he couldn’t really tell if it was morning or midday, but it didn’t really matter. He felt like sleeping in was something he deserved today.

He stretched his back and heard some of his bones crack. Then he stretched his arms, yawning again, looking around his chambers. He felt a shift within he couldn’t quite place. It felt uneasy, but he didn’t know what it was. Then, he realized the first thing that was off. He had been sleeping in his own chambers, so where was the little girl that was staying here?

 

But that wasn’t exactly the reason behind this ominous feeling in his gut. It grew the more he tried to dig his memory for what Papa must have done. Had he told her she could stay in another room? The novice’s chambers? He ran his hands over his naked chest, feeling the warm and sleepy skin rapidly turn cold. He didn’t remember.

 

The unmasked singer shot upright in his bed. He didn’t remember. He didn’t remember anything Papa had been up to ever since Sister Imperator put that mask on him the previous morning. He hurried to the curtains, opening them, staring out the window. Was it even the previous morning? How long had Papa been in control of his body and his mind? How much had he been missing? He clutched the fabric in his fists. Why the fuck couldn’t he remember anything?

 

He wore nothing but his briefs, because that was how he slept most comfortably, and slowly he remembered undressing himself, so unstable that two pairs of hands held him up. He remembered how the hands lifted him when he fell to the bed, exhausted beyond belief, and moved him in a more comfortable position. The blankets were draped over him with care. Omega?

 

The singer thought of his love. He didn’t know if half of those hands had belonged to the ghoul, but he felt a pang of relief thinking of him. Omega would have answers. Omega would look at him with his bright, kind eyes and he would feel safe again. His train of thoughts derailed when his stomach rumbled loudly. He bit his lip. He would get his ghoul to have breakfast together. He looked outside. Or lunch. The singer squinted. Dinner, maybe?

 

As soon as he had put on some pants and stepped outside, the Air ghoul appeared from the room next to his.

‘You’re awake!’ He simply said.

‘Yes…’ The singer started. Why was Air here? ‘Air-’

‘How are you feeling?’ Air said. He placed a hand on the singer’s shoulder, and the commiserative look in his eyes immediately brought back that ominous feeling in his gut.

‘Air.’ He said. His voice sounded meek. ‘How long have I been asleep? Where is the girl?’

The tall man sighed. ‘You have been asleep for three days.’

 

In the silence that followed, the singer could feel the blood retract from his face.

‘Three…?’ He stammered. ‘How is that possible?’

‘Exhaustion. That is what the Sister said. You could barely stand when we put you to bed.’ So those hands did not belong to Omega.

 

‘What did Papa do that exhausted me so?’ The singer felt lightheaded. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all.

He looked away from Air’s gaze, because he saw the question in his eyes.

‘I can’t remember.’ The singer said. ‘I can’t remember anything Papa did the last time he possessed me.’

“Possesion” wasn’t a term he used for the relationship he had with the demon pope, but now that he had no memory of it, he felt abused.

‘How is that possible?’ The Air ghoul said softly.

The singer looked at him again. ‘I felt it coming for a while now.’ He said. ‘Do you happen to know what Papa has been up to?’

Air shook his head, avoiding his gaze.

‘Air?’ The singer managed to use a gravity in his voice that made the ghoul confess.

‘I don’t know what he has been up to, but I do know it wasn’t something good. I heard he didn’t sleep, left Lincopia a couple of times, and when he came back and Sister Imperater had to unmask him…’ Air looked at him again, eyes more sad than before. ‘He was upset. He was so upset the Sister called on me because she alone couldn’t handle him.’ He touched the singer’s shoulder again. ‘I’m sorry.’

 

‘Sorry?’ The singer swallowed. ‘What do you mean he didn’t sleep? How many days was he here?’

‘Three.’

The singer felt like fainting. ‘I’ve lost a week, then.’ He started to feel dizzy. He rubbed his eyes, remembering Air hadn’t answered one of his questions.

‘Where is Hazel?’ he said.

 

‘I am sorry.’ Air said again. A cold fist wrapped around the singer’s heart. ‘We don’t know where she is.’

A rush of goosebumps ran over the singer’s back, and he chattered his teeth. Wordlessly, Air led him back into his room to get him a sweater.

‘I’m taking you to the Sister.’ The ghoul mumbled, helping him putting it on. ‘And you really need to eat something.’

‘I want Omega.’ The singer said softly. When Air fell silent again, something very obvious dawned on him now, and panic crawled up to his stomach like heartburn.

 

-

 

A feeling of sadness so deep it must have been there for all the days he had been sleeping seeped through his conscious mind and he felt tears rolling down his face as he ran through the castle. Omega’s door was unlocked, and the room was empty.

‘Omega!’ The singer shouted. He didn’t quite understand his panic, but he understood the grief in his subconscious and the silence of the Air ghoul. Omega was gone.

 

Even though he just woke up, and his love was there right before the black hole in his memory, he physically felt the long days without him. He felt how much he had missed him, and how much he missed him now. He only once felt this way before, a couple months prior, when Omega had left the first time. Back then, he had yet to realize that it was the feeling of missing a part of your soul.

He fell down to the bed, tears now running freely, and pressed his face into Omega’s pillow. It still smelled like him. The days ahead seemed like an empty and barren landscape. He clutched the sheets to his chest and clamped his teeth together. The sobs didn’t pass his lips, but his face was a tortured grimace as he lay there, broken. Silently, the ghouls who had come to the castle on the Sister’s request, gathered by the door. He watched them and their looks of pity through wet and cluttered eyelashes.


	15. Liz

“HAZEL, GET YOUR FUCKING ASS DOWN HERE!”

Papa heard the voice so clearly. The sound of the angry man kept ringing though his mind, over and over again. He called out for Hazel, cursed, spat out her name as if it was filthy. Papa could feel his skin crawl. The voice got louder and then faded, before getting louder and fading again. It was as if someone was fiddling with the volume. The atmosphere changed as he materialized in Hazel’s house. The voice ringed louder now, but disappeared the moment he opened his eyes. Papa saw an empty home, no lights were on. He realized the voice was a memory.

 

Because no one seemed to be home, Papa dropped the shadows he had drawn around him, and took a step towards the window, but turned when he heard an audible gasp. There had been someone here, he realized.

A woman sat at the dinner table, a sweater draped around her shoulders. She clutched a glass of wine in her trembling hands. Papa took a step closer, but she didn’t recoil, which was strange, given the circumstances. The woman squinted her eyes, and then relaxed the muscles in her face, as if she didn’t believe what she saw. She looked at him, hesitantly. Papa took another step. Her blood-shot eyes grew bigger, but once again, she did not shy back.

 

‘Grim reaper.’ She mumbled. She slurred her words a little, making Papa question which drink she was on. The woman sighed. ‘Seems fair.’

 

She bowed her head, and Papa could see the ginger roots in her bleached blonde hair. She looked past Papa’s shoulder, to the street outside.

‘I’ve never watched it turn dark before.’ She said, almost inaudible.

‘You’re Hazel’s mother.’

The women looked him in the eye for the first time. Her eyes were deep blue like her son’s, but had the look of earnest he knew from her daughter.

‘And Indigo’s mother.’ She hissed. She put down her glass, the sharp sound echoing through the dark and empty space. ‘But I guess now…’ she pressed her finger and thumb to the bridge of her nose. ‘I’m nobodies mother.’

 

Papa half expected her to cry, but she didn’t. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. Then she heard something. Her phone buzzed. It were two short sounds, before silence fell again. Carefully, she reached out to the mobile, and pressed a button to see a message appear on the screen. She blinked her eyes, as if she only now realized she was awake. Then, she looked back to Papa. Her expression grew more worried once she realized he wasn’t a trick f her drunk imagination.

 

‘You’re real.’ She said, as if she still didn’t quite believe it. And then, when Papa stepped closer and pulled back a chair: ‘I know who you are.’

‘Well, I hoped you would. My face is all over your son’s bedroom wall.’

‘You knew him?’

‘I did.’ There was no reason to hide all that from this women now. ‘What is your name?’

‘It’s Liz.’

‘Where is your husband?’

Up until now, the woman had seemed oddly calm, and in a sedated state, but she snorted and laughed loud and cynically when Papa mentioned Hazel’s father.

‘I kicked that fucker out.’ She looked Papa straight in the eye. ‘He murdered my children.’

 

Then she averted her gaze. She reached under the table and grabbed a bottle, filling up her glass of wine. She didn’t offer Papa any.

‘We both did. I never stopped him. I should have stopped him. I should have left him sooner. Now my boy is dead, and my little girl…’ She clenched her teeth. Taking a deep breath, she drank a big gulp of wine. ‘After your first child goes missing, all you do is hope. You hope he’s alright. You hope he’s with friends, he’s warm and fed. You choose to forget how deep the pit was you were digging for him, and you choose to forget the sadness you felt oozing from him whenever you held him. When that child turns op, you tell yourself, you would love him and treat him right. You would tell him that he is right and the world is wrong for not being big enough.’ Liz picked at speckles of dust on the table.

‘Then that child turns up, but he isn’t warm and fed and smiling. He is cold, and so pale you think you can see his bones. His toes are blue from the freezing water. His eyes are closed because they don’t want you to see how empty they are.’

 

Papa felt chills. He didn’t know Indigo had drowned himself.

‘So when your second child goes missing…’ She locked eyes with Papa. They were red, but dry. ‘For me, only one scenario is plausible.’

Papa didn’t expect to feel compassion for the woman. Her raw grief struck him, maybe even more because she didn’t come off as emotional on first sight. But when he looked closer he saw the defeat in her shoulders, her numb heart.

‘They were inseparable.’ Liz said. ‘There was an age gap of ten years, I was building a career… but their age was never a problem. I was never like that with my brothers.’

She stood up, and walked into the kitchen, to appear again with a new glass, and a small piece of paper in her hand. She put the glass in front of Papa, and poured him some wine. Then she placed the piece of paper next to it. It had writing on it. No more than a sentence. Four scribbled words.

 

_Blossom, I am sorry._

 

‘That’s what he used to call Hazel.’ Liz said. For the first time, a sob left her. ‘He had called her that from the moment she was born. He saw a blossoming tree on the way to the hospital and decided his little sister would bring some light to his life. Can you imagine? A ten year-old who needs a light in his life.’

A single tear ran down her cheek.

‘I like to think that she did.’

 

Papa said nothing. This wasn’t what he expected when he came here. He didn’t expect to find a remorseful parent. He didn’t expect to feel sympathy for Liz. And he caught himself feeling disappointed for finding it.

 

‘I failed at the one thing that is supposed to come natural. Being a mother.’ She emptied her glass. ‘So how are you going to do it?’

Papa cleared his throat. ‘What do you mean?’

‘How are you going to kill me?’

Liz pointed at his face. _Death is literally painted on it_ , he heard someone whisper in his mind, but he couldn’t remember where he heard it.

‘Hazel is alive.’ He said softly.

 

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The singer let go of Sister’s hands, to ball his own in frustration. He opened his eyes, seeing the room, lit by candles. He smelled the incense.

‘Do you remember anything from the days you lost?’ The Sister asked him, carefully. She could already sense the answer.

‘Nothing.’ The singer said, grinding his teeth. ‘I remember nothing.’


	16. Insomnia

The singer ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it. He had spent hours with the Sister now, while she tried to dig into his mind. They had accomplished nothing all day.

‘It’s not uncommon for a demon to pull back before leaving the body.’ The Sister mumbled, careful in calling him a ‘body’. ‘But usually it happens some hours before he abdicates, not months prior.’

The singer nodded. Papa II had left some holes in his memory too, but that was his last night before being dethroned by Papa III. And during the time, Emeritus the second allegedly enjoyed the night with a handful of his favorite women, instead of losing a ghoul and a small child under his protection. This was worse (although the singer wouldn’t mind remembering such a night), and it felt very different.

 

‘Why is this happening?’ He sighed. It wasn’t a question any of them could answer. ‘I’m tired, Sister.’ He said. She bowed her head. She had been extremely kind today, and it worried as much as soothed him.

‘You get something to eat.’ She stood up, and he followed. ‘We’ll try again later.’

The singer sighed once more and opened the door.

‘Omega will be okay, wherever he is.’ The Sister said softly. It startled him. ‘I know you worry, but… he can handle himself.’

The singer thought about Omega, and about the dream in which he murdered him. 

‘I’m not just worried about _him’_ He said, because he felt a pang of grief for the missing child. Then, he left the room. Right before he closed the door, he could hear her say: ‘I know.’

 

 

_Liz held onto his hand, tightly. There was a tremor in her blood-shot eyes, and they tightly held his gaze._

_‘How do you know she’s still alive?’_

_‘She fled your house. I’ve been taking care of her.’ He heard how ridiculous those words sounded now, as he spoke them to Hazel’s mother. But to his surprise, the women squeezed both her hands around his._

_‘Thank you.’ she said, weakly._

_Papa stood up, shaking his hand loose. He took a few paces away from her, then turned to look at her again. Her small, shaking posture infuriated him._

_‘What the fuck do you mean thank you, Liz? That is your child!’_

_‘I know…’ she started, but Papa cut her off._

_‘You kicked out your husband, well done.’ He said, irony in his voice. ‘What was your plan now, wail?’_

_‘I-’ she said, but Papa stormed towards her, pulling back his chair again. It made an eerie sound on the wooden floor and it creaked when he sat down._

_‘Talk to me, Liz. Tell me, what is your plan?’_

_‘I… I…’ The woman stared at him, seeing nothing but death. But the words now came through to her: Hazel was alive. Papa saw a faint hope glimmer behind her eyes. Hope for a second chance._

 

 

The singer moaned, raising his hand to his forehead. It had suddenly started to hurt. He blinked his eyes, some fluid falling from them because of the sudden pain. He grinded his teeth, but fortunately the feeling faded. When he could think clearly again, he gasped. He was in his own bedroom, and stared at the empty glass on the nightstand. The vision of the women clearly in his mind.

He had seen Hazel’s mother.

The singer sunk down on the bed, stabilizing himself. Papa had visited Hazel’s mother. Had he brought her back? The singer swallowed hard. Was that safe?

 

He closed his eyes, hoping for a new flashback. He pressed them shut. _Lucifer!_ He wanted to mumble, but he didn’t. He could do this without her. He hoped she wasn’t listening now.

It didn’t work. Why did he have the flashback in the first place? He stared at the ceiling, his chest empty but his head full of question, when the loud rumble in from his stomach derailed his train of thought. The sister was right, he should really eat something. He sighed, loudly, and got up from the bed.

 

Alpha and Air sat across from him as he ate. He took small, tasteless bites from his cheese sandwich, surprised it did feel better with food in him.

‘Stop doing that.’ He said softly. The ghouls across from him moved.

‘Doing what?’ Alpha asked him.

‘You’re staring at me with pity. Stop pitying me.’

‘I don’t pity you.’ Air said, voice strong. ‘I’m keeping you company.’ His long fingers were wrapped around a glass of wine. He swirled it, and took a sip. The singer looked at the drink.

‘You want some?’ Air said, when he noticed. The singer thought about it for a while, then nodded.

‘I’ll pour you a glass.’

He saw how Alpha watched Air stand up and disappear into the kitchen.

‘Alpha. I feel crazy.’

The ghoul’s eyes shot back to him. ‘You’re not crazy. It’s him. He’s fucking with you for some reason.’

The singer nodded. Alpha reached out and grazed his arm.

‘We’ll be fine.’ He said. It made the singer think. _We’ll_ be fine? A wine glass disappeared in front of him and Air filled it up. Who will be fine? He took a big gulp without thinking, and immediately the headache appeared again.

 

_Papa smelled the alcohol on Liz’s breath. She had confessed to him all the times she had stood by, or cried but did nothing, when her husband taunted her children. She had watched him call Indigo names and she had watched as he squeezed Hazel’s arm until her face turned red and angry tears fell from her eyes. She had said nothing when dark bruises had disappeared on her skin, days later. She had started drinking after Indigo’s death. She hadn’t been able to break through her own grief to save her other child. She had pleaded for forgiveness._

_He was a priest. Papa Emeritus was a priest. What does a priest do?_

_‘I don’t deserve her back.’ Liz said. Her voice had grown flat, and all energy seemed drained from her. ‘Hazel deserves to be loved for real. Loved completely.’_

_‘Can you give her that now?’_

_‘Will try.’ Liz said._ _She looked at him, eyes wet. They widened when Emeritus balled his hand into a fist, the black leather of his glove creaked._ _‘I… I mean…’ She sighed._ _Then, her face turned angry, and he finally saw how much her daughter looked like her._

_‘Yes!’ She wiped her face. ‘I’ll move._ _I’ll keep her father away from her.’_

_‘Liz, if you don’t start to see how good and how special this girl is-’_

_‘I know!’ Liz had gotten a little fight back._

_‘… and how_ dear _she is to me…’_

_Now, she bit her lower lip._

_‘Papa Emeritus…’ she took a deep breath. She pronounced his name wrong, but at least she knew it._ _‘I will be a mother.’_

_He believed her._

Alpha splashed some water in his face when the headache disappeared abruptly. The singer noticed he had been balling his fists so tightly it hurt his hands.

Both ghouls looked at him with relief when he finally relaxed his shoulders.

‘What happened?’ Alpha said.

The singer wiped his face with a sleeve. ‘He’s taken Hazel back.’ He looked at his hands.

‘What?’ Air said.

‘I saw Papa met Hazel’s mother. He forgave her.’

‘Mystery solved.’ Air said with a sigh. The singer still looked at his hands.

‘Yeah.’ He said.

‘That means you’ll find Omega too.’ Alpha touched his arm again. The ghoul smiled, and somehow the singer felt a fear even worse than before.

Alpha’s smile dropped. ‘Do you need to lie down?’ The singer nodded. He let Alpha and Air help him up when they saw how he was shaking. Slowly, they helped him up the stairs, but when they turned left for his chambers, the singer protested. He pulled his arm out of Air’s grip.

‘I don’t want to sleep there.’ He hissed. He pulled away from Alpha’s grip too, and turned right.

‘You can sleep in my bed if you want!’ Alpha tried, but the singer dragged himself further down the hall.

‘Are you sure?’ Air said with that deep voice of his, but the singer ignored him. He wasn’t sure if it would help, but he felt that it was what he needed. He swung open the door to Omega’s chambers and took off his shirt. He felt a tension in his brain, as if it was being stepped on. He cursed under his breath, and slammed the door shut before the ghouls could follow him.

 

His forehead started to glow and his ears started to buzz. Omega’s scent was everywhere. He stepped out of his loafers and dropped his pants. His vision was blurring. He stumbled to the bed, just in time crawling under the sheets. The now familiar headache crashed through him like a storm.

 

_Papa wasn’t feeling good. He had done well._ _He had been a priest._ _His throat burned. He didn’t want to say goodbye._

_He had to stay strong, he had to be convincing. This was the best for both of them. He felt heavy when he dragged himself up the stairs. When he reached the top, he broadened his shoulders._ _He took a deep breath. His voice mustn’t falter. He turned right._

_Omega sat at his desk, working, composing. He turned, calmly, as if he had been expecting him._

_‘You’re awake.’ Papa said. His voice didn’t sound as strong as he would have liked._

_‘I’ve awake for some time now.’_

_Papa remembered why he found him asleep the last time. He remembered he owed the ghoul an apology. Omega had told him to get on his knees, but this time, Papa stepped closer, and Omega stood up to meet him._

_Papa searched for the Devil’s dream in Omega’s eyes, but he couldn’t quite place what he saw. ‘I don’t deserve you.’ He whispered. Omega looked at him, towering over him. Papa didn’t know if he didn’t protest because he agreed, or because he was looking for the right words. But Papa had them._

_‘You deserve to be loved for real. Loved completely.’_

_‘I am.’ The ghoul replied, but the words got lost when Papa wrapped his arms around him and caught a scent. Omega squirmed in his arms when he realized what was happening. The world flashed by them, until they arrived at a place Papa knew Omega should be. He was a priest. A priest helps. What does a priest do? Emeritus felt dizzy when he let go. It suddenly felt as though his demon age was noticeable in this human body. He had never been this tired._

_‘What are you doing?’ Omega said, angrily, but still there was a softness in his voice. Did he look worried? Papa slowly blinked his eyes. What does a priest do? It was the right thing. Omega deserved to be happy more than anyone else in the world._

_‘Goodbye, Omega.’ Papa said. He felt melancholic. He felt his eyelids drooping. He saw Omega’s expression of shock, or was it bliss? He saw Chicago burst through a door in all her strong, Chicago glory, holding a fire extinguisher, ready to defend herself against the two strange men in her motel room. He didn’t catch the realization of either of them when they saw each other, because he drifted home on the wind, light as a feather._

 

 

 

The singer stared at the ceiling, nurturing the headache that wouldn’t go this time. He believed it. He believed this was something Papa could do. He felt it. He had felt how the demon inside his body had slowly grown crazy. He believed Papa’s mind had gotten twisted somehow, and he almost started to believe that the pope had made the right decision.

 

That is why he couldn’t believe his eyes when a tall figure moved through the room to kneel beside the bed. A ringed hand landed on his chest, over his heart, and two tired, deep blue eyes sought his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this the Chicago/Omega reunion y'all hoped for?
> 
> Oops.


	17. Loved Completely

The last time I saw Omega was in November. The winter had settled in in the state of New York, and I had fled the cold and headed south to Mexico. I had never abandoned my plans to hike to Canada, but such a feat required knowledge, and I had made my move yesterday to the south of California. I had been speaking to potential hiking mates, I had been looking to buy cheap yet essential gear. I was going to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. I was going to take these shoes across the country and maybe… maybe I was going to forget.

 

I didn’t know what I would say if I would ever see him again. We hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t called. But then again, neither had I. Would I have cried? Would I have held him, take him in the way I imagined holding him every night since we parted? I did feel that hunger in my skin now, as he stood in my motel room near the Mexican border. Him being there was so unexpected that at first I didn’t recognize him. It seemed as though he appeared from the shadows, and for a second I thought I saw someone else with him, but then it was just Omega and me. We stared at each other as language slowly seemed to become obsolete. The urge to wrap my arms around him fleeted and I let them fall beside me, the fire extinguisher rolling to the ground.

 

He looked sad and tired, and I remembered the exhaustion on Papa’s face when he visited me two days prior. My bafflement finally disappeared and I realized Papa had been the person I saw here too, moments ago. I had known then that something was wrong, but to see a similar grief on Omega’s face made me fear for the both of them.

 

We still hadn’t said a word. The ghoul stood there. Tired, but tall and strong like a Norse… I shook my head. I needed to stop idolizing him the same way I had stopped idolizing Emeritus. The pope’s visit had shaken me, but it didn’t derail me like it used to. As if I had been expecting him. But nothing could prepare me for what was happening now.

 

‘Chicago.’ Omega finally said. The name that was mine from the end of July until I turned my back on the departing tour busses in November. He chose to call me that, now. It made me doubt whether he saw the change in me.

‘Omega.’ My fingertips went numb. A new silence fell. It didn’t feel right. I waited for him to explain to me why he was here, and why there had been no warning. His big, wet eyes searched for something in me, as if I was the one who had to explain herself. It felt as if I was waiting for something that would never come.

 

‘So this is what is happening now? You both just drop in whenever you like?’ Only when I spoke again and heard some anger I knew how I felt. Then I clenched my jaw. This wasn’t at all how I imagined our meeting again would go. My heart was beating heavily, as if it had caught a few punches. It felt black and blue. The scar tissue had been ripped clean of. Omega moved, his shoulders so tense that I could see the muscles in his upper body contract. He seemed angry too. I remembered he told me he punched a wall once. He looked a defeated man, but a man who was about to knock down this entire building.

 

When I saw no excitement in him for meeting me, it felt as if my heart sunk deep inside my gut, leaving a void. I would have gasped for breath had my body been tied more closely to my mind. My eyes were dry.

‘He visited you?’ His voice was shaking with anger. ‘When did he visit you? Did you two plan this?’

‘DOES IT LOOK LIKE I PLANNED THIS?’ I shouted, suddenly. How dare he? How dare they just walk back into my life as if I had been away on a small coffee break, instead of like this life-changing journey. Omega’s knuckles cracked.

‘OH!’ He shouted back, shaking. I could see he tried to calm himself, because his anger should not be directed towards me.

‘I’m not supposed to be here.’ He said softly.

‘Great.’ I shot back, because I felt disappointed. I wished he wanted to be here and I wished I didn’t wish that. Then I looked at my feet.

‘What did he do?’ I said. I heard Red through it and got the chills remembering her.

Because of course this wasn’t planned. This whole situation reeked of Papa Emeritus.

Omega coughed. ‘Do you have a cigarette?’ He said, still irritated gone. He looked completely lost. The tension still ran through his shoulders, but the defeat was setting in and I saw him slump.

‘… I quit.’ I replied. I saw him nod his head. My bruised heart swelled and cracked.

 

‘Hold up.’ I squeaked. I left him where he stood and I imagined him watching me walk out. The moment I had left my room I felt as if I could breathe again, as if I had stepped back into reality. Maybe I was imagining him. I hurried to the front desk, where I remembered cigarettes could be bought. I was so quick in trying to make him feel better. I froze for a second, remembering Papa’s visit. I had told myself it didn’t bother me, but now I was being sucked back into their life again. Without a warning. Without consent. I payed the cashier, and eyed a bottle of booze on the lower shelf. It didn’t seem like a good idea.

 

Omega stood in the door when I returned and the internal wound in my chest started bleeding. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Omega didn’t want to be here. He would never choose me, so I chose to leave, and now he was back. I handed him the cigarettes.

 

‘So he kidnapped you.’ I said, as Omega lit one. He closed his eyes, feeling the instant gratification, and he leaned on the balustrade.

‘And he dropped you here. Is that correct?’

‘Hmm.’ Omega nodded. His heavy eyebrows pulled together even closer.

‘Why?’

The ghoul grunted and stood upright again.

‘Because…’ The contained anger in his voice gave me chills. ‘Because he can’t deal with his own problems. Because he will never take the blame for anything. Because he’s got his head so far up his own ass he can’t hear anyone but himself anymore. Because he disappears for three days and when he comes back it’s like he has gone mad! Son of a…’ He grunted again.

‘…has he?’ I said. I swallowed a feeling away, then reached for the cigarettes, still in his hand. He let go the moment I touched the pack. I took one, placed it between my lips. When he held up the lighter, I reached for it, but he fired it up and my hand landed over his.

 

Our first touch. I inhaled the smoke and closed my eyes, nicotine shooting into my brain, making me high and light. My fingers wrapped around his palm, clenching tighter, and he held my hand. My heavy heart scudded blood through my heavy body, but I could only feel my left hand in his.

It all came back to me, harder than I expected. I felt everything, then. I smelled him, I could almost taste him. I felt him beside me, inside me, I remembered how he called my name at the music festival that one time, how we woke up together in my bed the next day, _the rain hitting the window so hard we woke up to an orchestra of weather_. I remembered how I had placed his hand over my heart and told him to reconcile with his friend and lover, and how that was the first time I realized, but couldn’t yet admit, that I truly loved him.

 

I exhaled. When I opened my eyes Omega looked at me. Agonizing blue. He was still holding my hand. I think we both felt what we could have had together had there been no one else. No one better. The warmth of our hands spread and I needed more of his body, now. I pressed my face to his shoulder, and he wrapped his free arm around me. When Papa appeared in my motel room in Mexico I had been so surprised and relieved to see him, honored to have been on his mind again. I had dragged him into the bed, because that was how our relationship had always been, and it had been as hot and as needy as it always was. I had missed him and I had never stopped wanting him, and sex was how we communicated. Sex was who we were together.

 

There was nothing I wanted more than to kiss my ghoul and run my hands under his T-shirt. I wanted to feel his naked body pressed against mine. But sex wasn’t who we were together. I

loved him too much for that. I felt his breath in my hair and his heartbeat against my cheek. It seemed to ease a little, and I hoped it was the anger subsiding. Slowly, I untangled us. I leaned on the balustrade just like he did before, and smoked.

 

‘You said Papa was here. When? Why did he visit you?’ He asked me.

‘He visited me two days ago, in Mexico. I don’t know why he visited me. He didn’t seem well.’

‘He isn’t.’

‘What is wrong with him?’

Omega sighed and let the bud of his cigarette fall to the ground. He took out a new one. ‘I am not sure.’ He said, lighting it. ‘My boyfriend told me he is hearing voices.’

Strangely endeared by him calling the singer his boyfriend, but also slightly jealous, I smiled. The smile dropped when I realized what he had said.

‘He is hearing voices?’

‘He told me that, right before the Sister came to get him masked. After that, Papa has been out and about. I don’t know if he has rested.’

‘Is he afraid of something happening?’ I said. I watched him shift. He was paying close attention to my words.

‘Is he afraid to go to sleep?’ I remembered the dream the Devil gave me that time. I shivered. ‘He didn’t seem well.’ I said again.

 

I saw worry in Omega’s eyes. He didn’t know what to say next. His eyes shot from side to side as he was digging his mind, looking to see if there was something he missed.

 

‘Do you have your wallet?’ I asked him. Confused, he felt his pockets.

‘I do?’

‘Good. You can have an emergency passport made at the airport if you have an ID on you.’

It was quiet for some time. He still looked tensed, and worried, but I knew his next words came from the heart.

‘I missed you a lot, Chicago.’ He said. When I looked at him again he smiled, and his cheeks pushed his eyes in the forms of crescent moons. I felt a blush creeping over my face.

‘Don’t call me Chicago.’ I replied. My voice had gone a bit hoarse from the smoke. ‘I’ll get you a cab. There’s an airport fifty miles away. I can lend you some money if you need to-’

Before I knew it, he had pulled me back into another hug.

 

It made me feel warm. He did appreciate me. I wrapped my arms around him and ran my hands over his solid back. His scent engulfed me and I let it take me, running my hands up and down, finally feeling him after such a wait. Sex wasn’t who we were, but maybe making out shirtless was?

His body began to shake with what I thought was his anger again, but then I heard a muffled sob.

‘Omega?’ I said softly. ‘Are you crying?’

Omega urged his body to calm, and he breathed intensely, but controlled.

‘I’m okay.’ He said.

‘Hey.’ I moved my hand to his face. His cheek was smooth and warm.

‘It’s just a shit situation.’ He averted his eyes. ‘We’ll be fine, kid.’

‘You got this, Omega.’ I whispered. ‘You don’t need me anymore to tell you that.’

 

‘Why are you always so good to me?’ He mumbled in my hair. The touch sent shivers down my spine. It was a rhetorical question, yet I felt compelled to answer.

‘I’ve been to amazing places in the last couple of weeks.’ I said. My voice sounded muffled against his chest. ‘Extraordinary places. I’ve seen things so beautiful they’ve taken my breath away.’

Omega loosened his grip to look at me.

‘I am changed. This has changed me.’ I continued. ‘But not because I expected to change. I did not go to “find myself”. I wanted to leave and keep leaving.’

Omega nodded. I squinted my eyes and peered at him. Even though none of this was his fault, I wanted him to really understand.

‘When I saw what I saw, when I accomplished what I did, I didn’t feel my own success or happiness or _being_ in the moment. When I saw the most amazing things, all I could think of were the people I loved, and how badly I wanted to share it with them.’

I sighed. ‘I thought of how much more _there_ I would be if I actually got to touch that person’s arm, be amazed together, reflect on the people we would be, then and there.’

I threw away the bud of my cigarette, that had been out for a while now.

‘Sometimes it was my best friend from college. Sometimes it was my cousin.’ I saw in his eyes he knew it was coming.

‘It was mostly you.’

 

He slowly lifted his hand and rested his fingers against my cheek. I leaned into the touch of his hand. Emotions shifted behind his eyes, making them change color, over and over. His pupils dilated a bit, making his eyes turn darker, then they turned light again as he tilted his head. His lips were touching mine before I knew it. He wrapped an arm firmly around my waist as his lips pressed against mine more firmly now. Determined, I closed my hands behind his neck. I let his hair slip through my fingers and we kissed, tenderly. I felt his tongue run over my lower lip and I let him in, deepening the kiss. There it was. The taste of smoke, and _him_. Just like that, I was addicted again. I moaned softly, grabbing him tighter, but it didn’t last as long as I wished. It never did.

 

‘Now you listen to me.’ He said, loosening his grip on me. ‘I know I can’t ask you to come with me again. I know it’s cruel to have me show up here and leave immediately. You don’t deserve this. But I do love you.’

I pressed my eyes shut. It hurt to hear that, but it made me feel so warm inside.

‘And I wish we could have met again under different circumstances.’

‘Me too. Next time, don’t make me wait so long.’ I let go of him. ‘And call me before you visit.’ I smiled at him, and he smiled back.

‘I want you to come visit me in Sweden.’ He said. ‘In a couple of months or so, when all of this is done. When you’ve hiked to Canada. For you, my door is always open.’

He killed his cigarette on the pavement.

‘I think that is all I ever wanted.’ I said.

 

 

 

When his cab finally came I took a good look at him. Who knew when I was going to see him again? He seemed relieved, almost cheerful, when he placed a fleeting kiss on my lips and squeezed my hand. There was still a long way home ahead, but in his mind, he was already back with his love.

He turned when he opened the door of the taxi.

‘Do you think he brought me to you because he knew you would send my ass right back home?’ he said. I thought about that. I honestly didn’t know.

‘Maybe.’ I shrugged. He gave me a last, slow smile, and awkwardly lifted his hand. The silver rings glimmered in the sub-tropical sunshine.

‘Goodbye, Chicago.’

‘Goodbye, Omega.’


	18. An Agreement

‘Son, we have to talk to him.’ Sister Imperator stood before him, tapping her foot. She looked annoyed, but the singer was relentless. Behind her stood Omega, who, until an hour ago, had been sweet as hell, and behind him stood Alpha, Air, Water and Earth. They all had their arms crossed and stared him down without mercy.

 

‘I can’t.’ The singer said. His voice echoed through the chapel with authority. ‘I can’t go through that again. Not now. And you can’t control him. I don’t want him back.’

‘You know there is no other way to find out what is happening to him, don’t you?’ Omega sounded kinder than the Sister, but he was agitated too. Angry, even. Not at him, the singer knew that, but he wished the ghoul would be more understanding.

‘I know.’ He sneered. ‘But right now, he doesn’t deserve my body.’

‘It’s not about what he deserves.’ Omega sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘It’s about-’

‘I _know_ what it’s about.’ The singer raised his voice, and he could feel his cool slipping.  ‘But-’

‘WILL YOU LISTEN TO ME FOR ONE SECOND?’ Omega took three firms steps, letting his big hands land on the shoulders of the singer. ‘It’s about _you_. _You_ need to be safe. _You_ need to be protected. We need to find out what is wrong with Emeritus to keep this shit from happening again.’

Omega stared at him with a great intensity and the singer felt intimidated. He felt how his temper cooled into a cold, simmering discontent. Sister Imperator cleared her throat.

‘Your well-being, the well-being of the leader of this church…’ as everybody looked to her, raising an eyebrow at her careless lack of tact, she took the veil from where the mask was kept. It was resting on an orb made of ebony. The singer had always found the sight of it, eyeless, disturbing. Even though nobody would know any of the Papa’s the way he did, he would never be able to meet them. He sighed.

 

‘Fine.’ He shook his sleeveless denim jacket from his shoulders and walked up to the altar. Some anger boiled back up as he moved the tips of his fingers under the silicone. Carefully, he slid it over the wood, putting a hand inside to take a good look at it again. No eyes. Only his fingers poking through the sockets. He wondered if Papa would feel it if he dug his nails into the thing. He wondered if it would hurt would he try to rip the mask apart. He threw Sister a dirty look as he walked back down the steps. She held out her hand to take the mask, but he ignored her.

 

‘You do it.’ He handed the mask to Omega. The ghoul took it without hesitation. The singer saw him run a thumb through the black hair. Omega nodded. Every ghoul took a step closer to the duo.

‘Siamo con-’ Omega started, but the singer raised both his hands to touch his face. For a moment, they locked eyes, and Omega understood. He met the singer’s kiss halfway.

Silence fell in the chapel. Sister Imperator’s footsteps were hardly audible as she walked around the room, burning incense.

 

‘Siamo con il nostro Dio Scuro.’ Omega said. His voice sounded different now, and he didn’t break eye contact with the singer.

‘Siamo con il nostro Dio Scuro.’ Everyone echoed. The singer smoothed his hair back and closed his eyes. He concentrated on his breathing. The incense filled his nose and he heard how Earth started to hum. Soon, the others followed, even the sister who, unfortunately, did not have a great voice for it. Still, it calmed the singer. He had forgotten how pleasant this could be when all the ghouls were here.

 

‘Il Padre, Il Filio et lo Spiritus Malum omnis caelestis delenda est…’ Omega sang. The singer bowed his head. He could feel the mask had already taken on his temperature.

‘Anti Christus, il Filio de Sathanas… Infestissumam…’ Omega rolled the mask down over his head. The part where the silicone was pulled down the skin of his face was always his least favorite part, but he could already feel how that skin wasn’t his anymore.

‘Anti Christus il Filio de Sathanas…’ he could hear Omega sing again. The humming of the ghouls and the sister complimented the singing, but it started to sound intrusive now pressing on his mind.

 

Omega smoothed the edges of the mask over his shoulder and neck.

‘Lucifer!’ he said, loudly.

‘Lucifer!’ the ghouls and sister echoed. The singer tried to move his fingers, but they weren’t his anymore. A dark force pulled him down, and chained him. He was here.

 

Papa Emeritus opened his eyes and looked around him as if he wasn’t interested in the ghoul before him at all. He let out a conceited sigh and stretched his limbs.

‘Darling!’ he then said to Omega. For a minute, Omega was stunned. Where did he get the nerve?

But soon, Papa’s smile disappeared and he reached for his head. ‘Omega?’ he whispered.

 

‘You sound surprised.’ The ghoul replied crudely. Papa rubbed his brow. ‘Omega?’ he said again. Then he turned to see all of his ghouls. His breathing seemed to become more labored and he now reached for his throat.

‘Sister!’ it was a plea. Sister Imperator took a step towards him, but hesitated.

‘Sister, I can’t!’ all the ghouls approached him as he sunk to his knees.

‘Lucifer, not now!’

 

‘Control it Emeritus!’ Sister now hurried over to him and grabbed his arm. ‘Shut them out! You can’t answer to them all at once! You don’t have to!’

‘He is hearing voices!’ Omega said, remembering what the singer had told him.

‘Devotees.’ The sister said, as if that would explain everything. Emeritus pressed his eyes shut. His breathing was close to hyperventilating now.

‘Is he… is he going insane?’ Alpha suggested. Sister looked to him over her shoulder.

‘I don’t think so.’

 

‘I don’t want to hear it anymore, Sister.’ Papa’s voice was weak. He covered his ears with his hands as if the sound of the voices was deafening. Sister’s hand snapped forward, and she took Papa’s jaw between her fingers.

‘You can stop it, Emeritus.’ She demanded. ‘Shut them out. Make them stop. Pick one!’

‘How the fuck-’

‘Make them stop!’

 

Papa rocked himself, still pressing his hands over his ears. He muttered something the other’s couldn’t understand, over and over.

Omega shared a look with Air. The pianist looked as confused as he felt.

Papa seemed to form coherent words now and the ghouls looked back at him as the meaning of those words touched them.

‘I can’t save them. I can’t save them.’ Papa rocked back and forth. ‘I can’t save them.’

‘Save whom?’ Omega squatted next to him. He took Papa’s shoulders, shoving away the Sister’s hand. ‘Save whom?’ he said more harshly, shaking the pope. Papa didn’t seem to hear him, and kept repeating his paranoid mantra.

 

‘Papa!’ Omega shouted. Immediately, Papa opened his eyes. He looked at his ghoul in shock.

‘Who needs saving?’

‘Rosemary!’ Papa replied, panic in his voice. His eyes shot around the room, as if the voices were still there. ‘Diane!’

Omega had never heard those names, but Papa wasn’t done.

‘Indigo!’ he choked on the name from the agony it brought. ‘Indigo!’ he said again. Slowly, his head fell back, and Omega had to hold on to him to not let him fall to the ground.

‘I couldn’t save Indigo.’ Papa Emeritus sobbed. ‘I can’t save Chicago. I can’t save you.’

‘What makes you think I need fucking saving?’ All the anger had gone from Omega’s voice. He had never worried this much over his priest. ‘What makes you think she does?’

‘Indigo…’ Papa sobbed again. Then, his entire body tensed. He sat up on his knees again, pressing his palms over his ears.

‘Indigo!’ He shouted the name. ‘Pick one! Indigo!’

He started rocking back and forth again. Omega felt hopeless and he exchanged looks with the ghouls. They all looked beaten, uncertain of what to do.

 

Suddenly, a light filled the chapel. At first, it seemed to come from outside, but then Water pointed to the altar. The light came from a place right above it. Papa somewhat relaxed seeing it.

The light seemed to grow. It was incredibly white and intense. It pulsed and seemed to take many shapes. Then…

‘Is that…’ Water closed his mouth. Then, he tried again. ‘Is that a…’

‘A ghost.’ Alpha said. The ghoul couldn’t believe his eyes. ‘That is a ghost.’

 

Papa deeply inhaled as Indigo took his form. He stood up, shaking, but more calm now. He wiped some of the escaped tears, smudging his face paint.

‘Papa.’ Earth said, carefully. ‘Is that Indigo?’ When the pope nodded, all the ghouls looked back to the ghost in awe.

‘How is that possible?’ Water said softly. ‘Why is he here, Papa?’

 

Papa tilted his head, eyes on the transparent young man floating inches above his altar. Indigo raised his finger, and moved it beside his temple as if he was twisting his hair around it.

‘His sister.’ Papa answered.

‘But you returned Hazel to her mother.’ Alpha looked at him in confusion. ‘Didn’t you forgive her mother?’

‘No.’ Papa shook his head. ‘I mean, I did forgive her, but I haven’t taken Hazel back to live with her. I wouldn’t do that right away.’

‘But… Hazel has been missing for most of the week.’ Air said. ‘She has been untraceable since Omega went missing…’ he looked from Papa to Omega and moved uncomfortably. With regret in his eyes, Papa turned to the Aether ghoul.

‘Omega…’ Papa started, but in that moment, a loud screech sounded through the chapel, and a cold wind filled the space. Indigo moved fast, and floated straight through Omega’s body to stop in front of Papa. The ghoul gasped loudly, grabbing for his chest.

‘Indigo.’ Papa said. ‘You know where Hazel is, don’t you?’

 

The first night Hazel spent in Lincopia, Papa had given her a tour around the castle. She was so excited about the place that he had to show her around. Holding her hand, he had taken her to see the library, the chambers where they kept the ghoul’s garments. He took her down to see the dungeons and up to the top of the small tower, just because she thought it would be thrilling.

 

He straightened his chasuble as he reached the final steps. As soon as he rounded the last part of the winding staircase, he saw the girl scurry away. It was a large and empty space, hardly used, so there wasn’t really somewhere she could hide.

‘Hazel?’ Papa said. She had made herself a fort made of blankets, pillows and books from the library. ‘Are you afraid of me?’

 

Her ginger curls appeared from behind a stack of books and then her earnest, grey eyes.

‘ _Gattina_ , what is wrong?’

‘You acted so weird.’ Hazel said. It made Papa’s heart fill with regret.

‘When?’ he said.

Hazel looked at him, cool eyes. ‘You said you had saved Omega. Then you said you would save me. I didn’t understand. Then you left, and you were gone until now.’

‘You hid from me because I scared you?’ Papa didn’t remember that he had visited Hazel after leaving Omega with Chicago. But he cursed himself for it.

‘ _Gattina_ , my dear, I am so sorry. I didn’t meant to scare you.’

‘Were you drunk?’ Hazel said. Papa was certain the girl could one day become a sister like Imperator. If she wanted to.

‘No, I wasn’t drunk. I… I had a really bad headache and I should’ve gone to bed.’

He took a step towards her, but Hazel sat up, alerted.

‘I’m not like that Hazel, it won’t happen again.’

‘I heard Brother say to the ghouls that you still want to bring me home.’

 

Papa lowered his head. ‘May I join you in your blanket fort?’

Hazel plucked the pillow she was sitting on. ‘It’s a castle.’ She said.

‘May I join you in your castle, then?’

Hazel leaned back as he stepped closer. Seeing her in her castle, looking up at him, she looked like a child again. Papa’s heart grew and was beating for her.

The girl wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Then, she grabbed a pillow and placed it next to her, gesturing he could sit there.

 

Relieved, Papa took place next to her. He smiled when she handed him a blanket too.

‘Okay, Hazel.’ He said. ‘Let’s talk.’


	19. Lucifer's Wing, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to place a warning here again for the mentioning of suicide. It's not very graphic, but just so you know.

When Papa stood up to leave the tower, he saw how Indigo drew back into a wall. Papa quickly turned to Hazel, but fortunately she hadn’t noticed the ghost of her brother. Papa shook the blanket from his shoulders and flung it at the girl, who smiled in return. It made him feel all kinds of relief.

‘Agreed?’ he said, holding out his hand.

‘Agreed.’ Hazel took his hand and shook it. She had a firm grip for an eight year-old.

‘Now, don’t be late for dinner, little one.’ Papa shook his finger. ‘No more stealing from the kitchen.’

Hazel smiled again.

 

Papa Emeritus started his ways down the stairs, and as soon as he was out of sight Indigo appeared before him again. The ghost floated one step ahead, his face turned to Papa, and it was almost as if he was leading him somewhere again. By now, Emeritus trusted it to be something important.

 

Indigo led him to a silent corridor in the castle. Some place between the studio and the nun’s quarters. He held still out of nowhere, and Papa almost walked through him. The place didn’t seem to hold any significance. It was just a hallway with brick walls and a window covered by a velvet red curtain. The young man looked at him. Even now, Papa saw and appreciated the beauty behind his sad, indigo eyes. The more Papa looked, the more of their color he could distinguish. He felt touched by this young men. He felt touched by who he was. He wished for them to have met again in different circumstances, he wished for time to be reversed.

 

The light of the young man shone brightly, then dimmed, then grew more bright again. Papa reached for Indigo’s transparent chest, but stopped himself in the last moment. He remembered the cold. _The cold of death_ , he thought. However, the boy’s pearl white hands moved to his hand, as if Indigo wanted to keep him there. As if Papa’s hand to his torso was what he needed to finally get from him that what kept him on this earth.

‘Papa.’ Like always, Papa had missed the moving of his lips. He wondered, as always, where the sound could have come from.

‘Look.’ Indigo pointed his finger. Papa looked at where he was pointing: as place on his chest. He could see the wall behind the boy. A spider slowly crawled over it, as if it was unaware of a ghost and a demon pope next to it. Then, Papa saw more. The transparent white of Indigo’s ghost grew thicker, more solid, as if he was watching a cloud of smoke. Then, the smoke got darker, grey, and swirled around him like fog. It was cold, like he remembered the ghost to feel, but when he felt rain on his skin he wasn’t sure if the temperature came from just indigo anymore.

 

He was outside. He was standing outside in the rain. Lincopia had gone, the castle had gone, the wall with the spider had gone. It was getting dark, and the brisk wind made him shiver. When he looked next to him, the ghost was still there, while at the same time, Papa was staring into him. An illusion given to him by the young man.

Papa imagined taking a few steps, to have a closer look at their surroundings, and to his surprise he noticed he could. He moved his hands forward, and they landed on a railing of cold steel. Papa blinked his eyes. He started seeing more and more. The dark sky emerged above them. At the horizon, it merged with the dark river that streamed towards them, seemingly calm, but utterly relentless. It disappeared under the concrete beneath their feat.

Papa saw the road next to the bridge they were standing on. In the sand near the water stood a row of blossoming trees.

 

‘Ind-ig-o…’ Papa shivered. He wanted to ask the young men where they were, but when he looked at him again, he closed his mouth in shock. The ghost had turned solid. Papa could see blue streaks in his wet hair, drops of rain rolling down his fake leather jacket. Indigo grabbed the steel rail and when his rings banged against it, Papa could clearly hear the sound. The pope’s eyes grew wide seeing what he saw. The young man, almost alive, beaten an broken and washed out by the rain, placed his foot on the railing and pulled himself up.

 

‘No!’ Papa wanted to call out, and he reached for the boy, but his hands went right through him and his scream did not leave his lips. In this memory that wasn’t his, he was the ghost. All he could do was observe.

When he felt distress rising for what he was about to witness, a cruel smile danced over Indigo’s face. He zipped open his jacket and let it fall to the ground. Then he stretched out, his arms spread, as if he could take the horizon with him. The rain poured down on them, and the wind tugged at them, but Indigo stood his ground on the highest railing of the bridge. If he had let out a scream then, a roar of damning agony and frustration with this world, it was blown away by the wind. The young man braced himself, almost losing balance, and then leaned forward. It took little hesitation. He jumped, and flew away under Lucifer’s wing.

 

Papa covered his eyes. He didn’t think he would see this, he didn’t expect to again be in this situation witnessing the last moments of someone’s life. He felt a searing grief, but also a slight relief. This was it. This was what had happened. He breathed in, he breathed out. The rain had disappeared. When he moved his hands away from his face, he saw they were back in the castle. His clothes were dry. Indigo’s ghost smiled down at him.

 

‘I promise Hazel will always have my care, my love, my attention.’ Papa said softly. ‘I promise you that.’

Indigo exhaled blissfully, and Papa could almost feel his breath. The ghost smiled at him again.

‘Thank you.’ Papa said. Indigo reached for the emblem on his chest and hovered his fingers over it, as if to touch it. Then he looked Papa in the eye. The young man slowly disappeared. Indigo faded away, smiling, no hint of sadness in his beautiful eyes. Papa knew he wouldn’t see him again.

 

 

‘Here I am, on my knees like you told me to. I am the biggest asshole!’ Papa sat in the middle of the dining hall, arms spread out. Omega didn’t seem too impressed.

‘Yeah, you are, but you can get up now.’ He looked at the other ghouls and sisters in the room.

‘I am scum!’

‘You are scum. Get up off the fucking floor. Let’s go somewhere-’

‘I am wicked and profane and a terrible boyfriend!’

‘Jesus Christ.’ Omega looked like he wanted to drag Papa outside to give him a good talking to, because arguing in the middle of dinner preparations wasn’t really his style. But he put down the stack of plates and crossed his arms. Emeritus grinned awkwardly, because he saw Omega didn’t really care for his little show. Then he got up from the floor. At least the ghoul didn’t look too mad.

 

‘I am so fucking sorry for what I did, Omega.’ He said, serious now. ‘I don’t know how to start making it up to you.’

The ghoul didn’t respond, so he continued. ‘I am sorry for not treating you as an equal in this relationship. I value you greatly, but I don’t act the part.’

‘That can’t happen again.’ Omega said. He sounded stern. Near them, a sister banged a tray with cutlery on a table. Some forks fell to the ground.

Papa bowed his head. ‘Understood. I am sorry I…’ he looked at the ghoul. Even talking about it was hard. He couldn’t imagine how it must have felt for him.

‘I’m sorry I dumped you on the other side of the world. Being faced with her-’

‘You know Chicago is going to kick your ass if you ever visit her again, don’t you?’ Omega said. Then he sighed. ‘That was… that was incredibly painful, Papa. It shouldn’t have been that way. You robbed me of the choice to be in contact with her again or not.’

‘I really thought you missed her.’

‘I did miss her! I _do_ miss her. But she has made her choice, and I have made mine. Why do you always forget that, Papa? Why are you so jealous of the only man who is happy to carry you?’

They couldn’t look at each other. As Papa inspected his shoes, Omega let his gaze run through the dining hall. Everywhere around them was the sound of people.

‘Sister Imperator told me that you hearing those voices was what made you… go insane that night.’ Omega said. Papa was surprised Omega accepted that explanation.

‘It’s not an excuse.’ Papa replied.

‘Not really.’ Omega said. ‘Not if you don’t try to manage them better.’

‘It’s not like I am not trying.’ Papa said.

 

‘Do you hear them now?’ Omega asked him. The ghoul looked at him, maybe to search for crazy. Then it hit Papa. He wasn’t hearing any of the voices. His mind was calm. His mouth fell open.

‘I don’t.’ he looked at the ghoul. ‘I don’t!’

‘So you don’t always hear them?’ Omega said. Papa shook his head. He had to think about that.

‘I think…’ he said to him. ‘I think to ban all the voices I have to choose one and focus on it. I think I have chosen a voice that doesn’t need me as much.’

Omega nodded, although he didn’t really understand. He would try and explain it to the ghoul later, when they would continue their conversation. Now, the sisters running the kitchen had started bringing out dinner. Out of nowhere, Hazel appeared next to them. She looked shyly at Omega, and then pulled Papa’s sleeve.

 

‘Can I sit next to you?’

‘Of course, _gattina_!’ He motioned for her to sit down. Then he turned to Omega again. ‘Can we talk more after dinner?’

The ghoul nodded. ‘Yes. We need to.’

Papa waited for him to sit opposite of him and Hazel, but Omega waved kindly at the girl and walked to the other side of the table, where he sat down next to Water. They shared a short look, then Omega looked to his plate. Papa felt a stinging guilt.

 

‘Papa?’ Hazel touched his shoulder. He felt warm again when he looked at her.

‘Yes, little one? I am listening to you.’

 


	20. The Last Dance

Omega and Papa sat together in a quiet and empty dining hall. Omega had not wanted him in his chambers, and suggested to talk in a more neutral space. The previous days they had been talking a lot. The ghoul seemed to understand what had driven Papa off the rail, but he couldn’t help feeling hurt over what had happened. The pope couldn’t blame him. They sat in silence as Papa sipped his tea, and Omega his black coffee.

 

Papa felt better now that he seemed to be able to block all the voices from his mind. Alma Mater had given him a curfew on which he needed to be in the castle, and accept his daily unmasking. Seemingly the Guy had requested this after the physical exhaustion and emotional turmoil Papa had caused him. The pope couldn’t blame him either.

 

Omega wrapped his large, ringed hands around his mug. Papa wished there was a way for him to put into words how much he loved the ghoul, and he had tried to do that over the last couple of days, but the ghoul seemed to have grown tired of it. Papa knew that, for this to change, _he_ had to change. He wondered if he really knew Omega and he wondered if Omega really knew him. The ghoul looked at him as a devotee who had lost his religion. Papa felt like a fallen idol, which he shouldn’t have been to Omega in the first place. Now, there wasn’t that much to say on the subject of their relationship anymore. Papa had already pleaded he’d be the best man he could be, and Omega needed time. The pope wasn’t sure if he would come around. He wasn’t sure if they were even together still. But now, he didn’t want to ask. Today had been hard for a different reason.

 

‘I can come with you.’ Omega said. This kind suggestion threw Papa off, but only for a moment. ‘Or take Alpha.’ Omega said. ‘Take someone with you. A ghoul.’

Papa nodded, absentmindedly. He sipped from the tea again, but he didn’t really feel like drinking it. Then, he leaned his head in his hands.

‘I can’t do it.’

‘You can.’ Was Omega’s crude reply. Then, Papa felt the ghoul’s fingers against his arm. ‘You’re doing something good today.’ He said. ‘This is good. You realize that?’

Papa looked at him, nodded again.

‘If you weren’t sure this was the right thing to do, you wouldn’t have decided on it.’

Papa nodded once more. Omega took out his phone to look at the time.

‘You said three, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Let’s go then.’

When Papa got up he noticed he had rarely felt this heavy hearted.

 

They found Hazel in the studio, where she and Air were messing around on the keyboard. They had taken a liking to each other and Air had attempted to teach her to play the keys, but it turned out Hazel lacked all kinds of musical talent. It didn’t matter to her, though. She liked singing more and had been delighted to use the microphone. More than that she just enjoyed the ghoul’s company.

When she saw Papa her expression tightened and that earnest look appeared in her eyes. They had an agreement on this, but it didn’t mean that she was looking forward to today.

‘It’s time.’ The words struggled from Papa’s lips, but he managed to keep himself together. The girl nodded and stood up. She took her bag that she had put near the door. There were clothes in there, but also the books from the library Papa said she could keep.

 

Omega held out his hand and she took it, just like the first time they met.

‘I’ll see you later, Hazel.’ Omega said. Papa quietly exhaled.

‘See you later.’ Hazel echoed. Then the ghoul crossed his arms. He leaned against the wall. Hazel looked at Papa, and then at Air. The tallest ghoul went quiet as she held out her hand to him to say goodbye.

‘Do you want to come with us, Air?’ Papa said. Air had taken Hazel’s hand in his left one, and held it. He cleared his throat and stood up.

‘Yes.’ He said. ‘I think that would be a good idea.’

 

Hazel had wrapped her arms around Papa’s waist and Air placed an arm over Papa’s shoulders. The pope had wanted to give a warning before taking off, but when Omega gave him a small nod as an encouragement he couldn’t speak anymore and he had to leave before changing his mind. The three of them arrived in the kitchen of Liz’s new apartment.

 

Hazel’s mother had been waiting for them in a chair in the living room. She pressed her hand to her mouth upon seeing her child.

‘Hazel!’ tears welled up in her eyes and as if it was a primal instinct, Hazel let go of Air’s hand to embrace her mother. She had missed her, Papa realized, swallowing a feeling away. Hazel had missed her mother. He produced a mournful smile. The child cried upon seeing her mother’s tears, because this time the tears were for her. The realization that this, indeed, was the best thing for the girl somehow stung Papa.

 

‘I’m so sorry.’ Liz whispered in Hazel’s hair. ‘I am so, so sorry.’ She rocked her daughter like a baby. ‘I’m so happy to have you back.’

Through teary eyes, she looked at Papa. ‘Thank you.’ She whispered. The pope bowed his head.

‘Elizabeth.’ He warned her. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow. And the day after that. Don’t you think you’ve seen the last of me. There will never be a place you can go where I won’t find her.’ He balled his fists in helpless anger. He hoped the mother would understand.

‘Yes.’ Liz said. ‘Yes, I know this.’ She stroked a curl away from Hazel’s face and smiled at her. ‘Say goodbye to Papa now, Blossom.’ She said softly.

 

Wiping her tears, Hazel got up from her mother’s lap. Before she hugged Papa around his waist, placing her cheek against his stomach, she looked him in the eyes. She never feared them being mismatched. Never asked about the death painted on his face. The pope hugged her close to him and petted her head.

‘ _Gattina_.’ He whispered. ‘Little one.’ He wished he could keep the child close to him forever. He wished she was his own. It felt like she was slipping through his fingers in that moment, and he tried his best to hang on to her just a little longer. He rocked her from side to side, remembering how he met Indigo, and how they had danced that one time. They had moved through his dressing room together on the sound of chattering in the distance and the rapid beating of his heart. Now, Papa heard his sister’s heartbeat. He felt it under his hand as he gently stroked her back. It was calm.

‘I love you, Papa.’ She said. He swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t go.

‘I love you too, Hazel.’

 

‘I love you, Air.’ The girl finally let go of Papa to hug the ghoul, who got to his knees for her. It was as if only now, Liz saw him too. Her grey eyes widened at seeing the large, masked man. Good, Papa thought. Good she knows what kind of people would cross oceans to ensure her daughter’s safety.

 

‘Hazel, remember our agreement?’ Papa took her hand once more. The girl nodded.

‘When something is wrong, I call your name.’ She replied.

‘Indeed.’ Papa said. ‘You call my name.’ He had to pause for a moment, because he wasn’t sure if he was able to keep a steady voice. He looked at Liz, to ensure she was listening too.

‘I will always hear you, Hazel. I will always answer your call.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Papa and Air returned to the castle in silence. Because he was tired, and wanted to rest deeply for some time, he wished Air a good day and made his way to Sister Imperator’s study to get unmasked. He knocked on the door, and found himself startled when Omega was the one who opened it. As if he had known Papa would come here to ask for his mask to be removed. Silent, he looked to his ghoul. Of course he had known that, Papa thought. Maybe because Omega could see the weight of the day on his shoulders, or maybe because he had managed to make some kind of peace, he held his arms out to Papa Emeritus and took him in an embrace that was exactly as tight as they both needed it to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this story. I do hope you genuinely enjoyed it, even though it tackled some rather dramatic topics. As always, come say hi to me on tumblr: https://bearfeat42.tumblr.com/
> 
> One last thing: Spectrum has one more instalment. It is called Obsidian and it is the third story I ever wrote for Papa, Omega and Chicago. Some time in the future the time will be right for the story to get published on here.


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